


The New World

by PlaguedParadox



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magic, Magic-Users, Modern Era, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Post-The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Reader-Insert, Regis is a historian, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stone Prison, Strangers to Friends, Strangers to Lovers, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), Young Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25487857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaguedParadox/pseuds/PlaguedParadox
Summary: The reader is a historian in the 21st century that’s taken an interest in the ancient history of the Northern Realms. After a brief incident with a book landing on their head, they end up becoming determined to find information if the extinct race called Witchers were even real, to begin with.After a journey to Kaer Morhen and breaking a magical seal, Geralt awakes in modern times.
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellc Terzieff-Godefroy & Reader, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Comments: 42
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

Our story beings in a bustling city that once was known to the world as Novigrad, though that was centuries ago. Perhaps, I should explain. Mages and monsters were culled into the extremes, work of the church of the Eternal Fire. Eventually, the city were anything goes became non-human free. The church had wiped the city that was once home to many a mage, elf or dwarf to something that was a shadow of its former self and they continued that trend with the rest of the continent. Eventually, about halfway into the 14th century, the Northern Realms that knew of monsters, magic and Witchers were gone, forgotten. Replaced with religious zealots that burned those who dared to oppose them. Major places being renamed in the glory of the Eternal Fire. Soon into the 15th century, the Fire too became snuffed out and forgotten to history, the religion eating and burning itself from the inside. Of course, society was able to progress away from the ruins of its old leaderships and humans carried on, now believing they were the only sentient race to ever exist. And this is how we end up where we are, in the large never sleeping city of Nova in the 21st century. How fun. But, let's focus on the story I’ve come here to tell, shall we? It starts in a small building close to the heart of the city.

A museum of all things.

It was a blistering summer, the kind that no one could bring themselves to like. And yet down in a workroom, dedicated to the history of the continent around them, was our main character and their mentor. The pair were historians, patching in the holes the once Eternal Fire tore into the tapestry that was the history of the Northern Realms. They also often had to patch up maps that the Eternal Fire quite literally put holes in. Our main character – which is you, my dear reader but, I shall bestow a nickname onto you for literary ease and it shall be Honey – the lovely and diligent historian that they were was working away, patching up a map of Velen for their mentor – Professor Emiel Godefroy. He was a strange man, never really leaving the comfort of the museum even with Honey’s gentle encouragement but strangeness aside, he was brilliant. Almost too brilliant in Honey’s mind but it was an honour and a treat working under the professor and they’d never throw that away. “Professor, I’m done.” Honey gently spoke up, unwilling to shock the poor man out of his focused state as he worked on restoring one of the hundreds of ancient books that the pair were working on to try and build upon the lost history of the Northern Realms. Carefully, as to not undo all their hard work, they placed down the map in a safe location before walking over to the professor’s desk. “Professor Godefroy?” Honey sighed, walking around the desk to see that the professor was fretting over the same portion of text he had been working on for half the day now – ever the perfectionist. “Emiel!” His first name being called caused him to jump slightly, his face only turning slightly towards his mentee and letting out a soft hum to let them know that they had his attention. “Professor, I’m done with the 14th-century map of Velen, as you asked.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Care to put it with the other maps from the same region?” Professor Godefroy spoke in his usual polite manner, the man was practically famous for his manners alone. “It’s a shame we can’t find any map from an earlier century. It would help us document how the politics of the time shaped the land we know today,” He sighed before moving away from the book he was trying to restore. ‘My Evening with a Vampire’ was a passion project for him and took most of his free time when he wasn’t working on something he deemed far more important, which was usually something to do with the 13th century. Honey noted that there were very few surviving articles from that time – cursing the Eternal Fire silently for their apparent short-sightedness. They gingerly placed the map alongside the others before turning to look at the small collection of books that the professor had been able to collect from the 13th century. “I’ve got word that we’re due another shipment from Beauclaire. Hopefully, we’ll be able to uncover more of what was lost.” The professor spoke almost wistfully as he gazed upon the same collection.

Honey turned to him with a kind smile on their face. “I’m sure we’ll get there someday. If not, then we’ll have a nice jumping-off point for the lot that take our place,” Their eyes gazed across the aged spines that were along their eye line before turning to look up at their elder. “Though… Emiel… You’ve spent so much time here, when you talk about the past it’s almost as if you’ve lived it. Maybe, you need a break?” They suggest, nudging him slightly. The three years they’ve worked together have made them good friends so such actions weren’t unexpected. Emiel chuckled slightly at their comment before humming in response. Honey was about to remark on his reply before squealing in surprise, a mild amount of pain radiating from a small part of their scalp as they looked around for the culprit before glancing down at the perpetrator of the sneak attack, Emiel’s laughter not helping in the slightest before Honey noticed the book that fell on them. It was probably the best-preserved book in the collection, apparently from the professor’s collection that was the catalyst into his obsession with the erased history. It was an odd book titled ‘The Last Wish’, Honey knew it was written by a viscount but couldn’t for the life of them describe what happened in the thing or if it was meant to be a piece of fiction.

Almost as carefully as with the map, despite the book’s decent condition, Honey picked it up. “You can take that one home to read if you’d like. I have another one in my collection,” Emiel gestured up to where it fell from to show an exact copy, right next to it. “They were the first ones I was able to restore properly, I’m sure the museum won’t miss one.” He said with a wink. The only reason why they wouldn’t get in trouble was because Emiel was the one running the museum. “Oh, it’s late. Best you get home. Wouldn’t want you to run into any monsters.” He exclaimed jokingly, handing them their bag and nudging them towards the door. Emiel always did it once it got late enough, even if he admitted a part of it was so he could keep working and not have them fret over him about not sleeping but at least he was honest. Honey was about to argue before pressing their lips in a thin line, knowing that he’d find some reason for them to go home before him as always. They gave him a polite nod before saying goodbye and heading on their way.

The walk home after work was always the worst part of their day. Nova’s cramped streets, towered by unnervingly tall buildings, accompanied by far too many drunks and the loud, constantly jammed roads that no one seemed to be able to use properly. Walking through the street for barely ten minutes felt as if they were being crushed. Honey sighed heavily, hugging the book close to them for some form of comfort as yet another drunk nearly tripped their way out of the nearest bar with a giggling woman attached to his arm. Both were very attractive, Honey couldn’t help but find. The man, in particular, his caramel coloured hair looked almost impossibly soft, small tufts of a similar coloured beard on his chin and moustache made him look like an old-fashioned bard and his eyes looked like they could mirror the midday sky. Awkwardly, they watched as the man stumbled his way, woman in tow, towards a cab with a very impatient driver that seemed to wish that the pair would hurry up and get into her vehicle. Honey swallowed their nerves and paced toward, sending the driver a kind smile as they passed but unfortunately only received the bird in return. “Charming…” The drunk man slurred out, sending a lopsided smile Honey’s way and apologising for the woman that would be driving him to his chosen location. His accent would have been lovely had it not been fouled by liquor.

After that, Honey’s pace went from their comfortable pace to a strong power walk, trying to decide what they wanted more, the ground to swallow them whole or for the ability to teleport so they wouldn’t have to go through a situation like that ever again as they made their way to the edge of the city. They only knew they were getting close as the sea crept its way into view, almost beckoning them to take a boat to the isles that were consumed by nature in the distance. And as much as they’d love to do that, they were pretty sure that the famous white wolves would eat them alive, leaving nothing left for Emiel to collect. Honey’s journey stopped for a moment as they gazed across the body of water, enjoying the cool breeze that was barely able to flutter through the air. They recalled what brought them to the city, which is what brought them to work for Emiel. It was curiosity.

They were helping someone from the tiny town they were in with moving from stock from storage to their shop front when they noticed the falling apart ‘Nova’s Museum Grand Opening’ flyer that hung loosely at the old noticeboard that was nearly falling apart due to neglect. They asked the shopkeeper about the flyer to find out it had been there for a few months by the time they saw it. Honey had always had a thing for history so once they had finished helping the shopkeeper, they plucked the slightly damp piece of paper away from the decaying wood and tucked it into their pocket, folding it purposely so the map in the corner was on the outside. Emiel had been so surprised at their visit, going out of his way to try and impress them, making it obvious that the grand opening had been anything but. After a handful of visits, Emiel offered them a job.

A smile curled Honey’s lips as they recalled the bright look on Emiel’s face as they agreed. He had quickly became a good friend and they could never regret agreeing to work under him. Sure, there were downsides. Like the fact they had to move from their cosy town to the bustling city, the fact that they could only get quiet in their home or at work, and the other problems that city life blessed them with – such as neighbours that only seemed to care about themselves. Speaking of which, Honey’s smile fell as the banshee screams of one of their neighbours echoed down the harbour. Honey could already guess why the screams occurred, it always seemed to boil down to territory problems like someone’s garden gnomes being too close to someone else’s door – generally just petty things. Our dear protagonist slowly drew closer to their abode, a sinking feeling in their stomach growing as the screams got louder. The noise was a daily thing since moving to the area three years ago but Honey couldn’t get used to it, far too used to the quiet from their friendly home town. “Hello, Mrs Parsons! Is everything okay?” Honey chirped out nervously, calling out to the elderly woman screaming at the young couple that lived in between her and Honey.

Mrs Parsons’ face warped between a snarl to kindly grandmother within an instant as she gazed over towards the young historian. “Oh, hello dearie! Yes, yes. Things are fine,” Her husky voice chirped back in response, the snarl coming back as she gazed over to the neighbour’s house. “Well, things would be if those bastards would stop touching my gnomes!” It honestly surprised Honey that the woman could shout so well, then again perhaps that was because the woman got daily practice. Mrs Parsons noticed the confused look on Honey’s face and graciously decided to explain. “They’ve gone and broken another one! Poor Lenny, this time! What did he ever do to them?!” She huffed out before Mr Parsons had enough and came to collect her and of course, she tried to fight it. “Not now Harold, I’m explaining to the dear what those pricks next door have done now!” Honey couldn’t tell what Harold said but it was effective as his wife, Doreen, sighed and wished Honey a goodnight. The yelling now over for another day. Another day following the routine of Honey coming home from work to one or nearly all the neighbours screaming at each other, only for Harold to gently coax his wife back indoors. The other neighbours, Sandy and Alexia, were a cute, happy couple in Honey’s opinion. They couldn’t understand why Doreen couldn’t get along with them but sometimes you just don’t like someone and no one was going to force them to.

With the area now void of a screaming seventy-eight-year-old, Honey completed their journey. The sweet smell of vanilla welcomed them home as the creaky wooden front door shut slowly behind them with a light thud and a small click. “I’m home…” They called out softly to no one. They stood there for a moment, enjoying the peace before continuing into the living room. The soft thud of their bag against the floor and a gentle groan of a chair as they sat down were the only sounds in the house. Honey hugged the book tightly as they soaked in the silence. There were many times where the silence was too much, that it only emphasises just how lonely outside of work they were but the silence just after they got home from the chaos of the city was just what they needed.

But, Gods, were they lonely.

Tired eyes briefly gazed out of the narrow windows that showed the harbour street. The sky was starting to darken down to a rich navy blue like a blanket trying to coax the world to sleep. A yawn broke through the quiet house, giving Honey even more evidence that they needed to get some sleep and as much as they wanted to read the book that Emiel gave them, sleep was a priority. Ten long minutes of procrastinating ticked by before they finally stood back up on their now aching feet. “Dammit…” Honey hissed out slightly, nearly limping up the stairs, shoulder brushing against the wall so they didn’t need to let go of the nine-hundred-year-old book. It was still a surprise that Emiel gave it to them but if he trusted them with the second copy of this rare book, they weren’t going to question it. Gently, they placed the book on their end table before heading for the bathroom to start their routine – shower, brushing teeth, changing into sleepwear, bed. But in the morning, the first thing they were going to do is read that book.

And they couldn’t wait for morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Singing birds pulled the silk veil of sleep away from Honey, calling to them that morning had come and that the weekend had finally arrived. That meant two days off of work. Even though it wasn’t needed, Emiel insisted as he didn’t want them to end up burnt out. Honey groaned as they rolled into an upright position, feet barely touching the floor as they sat on the edge of their bed. “Morning…” They mumbled out, body complaining as they began to trudge over the bathroom, hand pawing gently at their eyes to try to wipe the Sandman’s dust away. They could barely stop themselves yawning. Honey stretched out their arms, joints popping as they looked into the mirror that hung above the sink. They were glad to find that they at least looked rested.

Throwing their sleepwear off, missing the hamper by what seemed to be a hair, they slipped into the shower. Squeals and the sound of thrashing filled the house as Honey scrambled to turn the taps down, waiting for the hot water to kick in as they stood in the middle of the shower, cold, wet and shaking. “Damn it!” They hissed out as they continued to wait for the old plumping to finally kick in and heat the water. Somehow, they kept forgetting that they had to wait for the hot water. A pleased groan soon sounded out as warm water began to run down their back. The shower ended far too quickly as they soon had to step out and wrap themselves with the large towel that rested nearby. Now, call Honey childish but they preferred to use children’s toothpaste rather than regular toothpaste simply because they liked strawberry more than mint.

Now feeling refreshed and dry, Honey practically skipped their way over towards the book. Gingerly, they picked it up. They were incredibly excited to read it but also nervous as anything because of the age of the item in their hands. A small hum left them as they skipped to the section where the author’s name was printed. Delicate fingers grazing across the aged words. A small chuckle leaving their lips as they read the lengthy author’s mention. “It’s almost as if he’s bragging…” They muttered as they read the list of courts that the author claimed to perform at. On to the actual story of the book, Honey flipped to the beginning, leaning back onto the bed’s headboard. Honey was practically absorbed into the novel but something kept bugging them. A person that was mentioned – A witcher by the name of Geralt.

There were a few articles about the mutants known as witchers, usually spoke about as a way of getting children to behave and there wasn’t any proof they existed yet this viscount talked about one as if they were the closest of friends. “Geralt… Where have I heard that name before…?” Honey questioned as they paced downstairs and rummaged through all the notes that they and Emiel had written over the years. “Geralt… Geralt… Ah! Here it is! Geralt of Rivia!” They chirped, scanning the information on the knight of Rivia written by Emiel. “'Geralt of Rivia, famed witcher, sometimes noted under the nickname White Wolf. Operated during the 13th century. Known to belong to the School of the Wolf. School’s location is Kaer Morhen.’ Kaer Morhen? Why does that sound familiar?” Honey hummed once again as they once again scoured through the leaflets of paperwork that was scattered around the living room. “Kaer Morhen… Kaer Morhen… Oh, here it is!” Pulling a stack of papers, stapled together. A bunch of locations that the professor has noted to be a good idea to search for information but the constant deliveries from Toussaint and Nilfgaard had kept the pair so busy that they hadn’t had any time to look into a trip to even one of the locations.

Witchers were something Emiel had talked about before but it always felt as if he was hiding something or holding information back. The mystery behind it all, the possibility of these monster hunters being real made Honey buzz with excitement. They wondered if any were alive or if the practice was being done in secret. With how the zealots tried to destroy any information on magic and monsters during the century Geralt was active, and the following few centuries left that thought with very little hope but there was a chance that information inside the schools survived. Which spurred Honey’s investigation. If they couldn’t prove outright that witchers were real then they could at least try and find something at their supposed locations. And for that, they needed to find Kaer Morhen.

Quickly looking through the stack proved to be a challenge as the professor had typed in too small of a font, trying to compress as much information onto one page to save money and save the environment. “Emiel, why…” Honey whined, eyes hurting from trying to fight going cross-eyed. Eventually, they found out what they were looking for and luckily Emiel had provided a map. “Looks like I’m heading to Kaedwen,” They muttered, pulling the sheet gently away from the staple, keeping the tearing to a minimum. They carefully traced down the tiny, printed map onto a larger piece of paper, consulting an up-to-date map to fill in anything that was either too difficult to see or that had changed over time which was mostly city and town size. After that was done, Honey began to pack their bags.

Okay, so if Honey was being honest – they had no idea what they were doing. They only travelling they had done was the visits between their home town and the city so a large trip like this was entirely new territory. The items they stuffed into a bag as they prepared to travel was stuff they recalled from survival shows and documentaries. Shortly after starting, they had to stop again. “Shit, need to pick up some travel food…” They said, pinching the bridge of their nose in mild frustration. Honey needed to go food shopping anyway but the fact they had to buy something specific annoyed them more than a normal shopping trip. Now slightly annoyed, Honey made their way upstairs to get changed into something.

Yes, they had done all that while still that towel from coming out of the shower.

Hierarch Square was still the shopping centre of the city, even nine-hundred years later, but it was even worse than before. If Nova’s streets were normally cramped, you’d be lucky to walk through the square and not have to be shoulder to shoulder with strangers but it was the best place to buy nearly anything. It was an extremely busy, nearly twenty-four-hour marketplace that changed sellers every few days. Merchants yelled out from their stalls, trying to catch the attention to any possible customers that they could sink their claws into. The marketplace had everything from knick-knacks to jewellery, from exotic foods from the south to clothing. Honey took note of the stalls that sold hunting supplies, one of which was oddly nestled between a herb seller and an arts and crafts stall. The marketplace was surrounded by a circle of shops and a bank tucked into a corner. The shops were more specialised, a supermarket, a book store, a post office, a tailor, a shoe shop and so on. The supermarket was the largest out of the shops but was nowhere near the size of the bank.

Slipping into the supermarket, Honey took a deep breath in, grateful that it wasn’t as packed as the marketplace right outside. The supermarket was a decent size, about 12 aisles all properly categorised. It was more suited to the health-conscious, and that raised the prices but Honey knew they could get their favourites here and that made up for it. Speaking of favourites, Honey made a beeline for the snack aisle after picking up a basket, immediately looking for chocolates and granola bars. They did have a plan in mind when it came to what food they were going to take with them - Quick, filling and could last a while. Any other foods and drink could have been picked up from towns along the way. They grabbed the ones knew were definitely going to eat and then allowed their gaze to drift across the other options, trying to decide what else to buy all the while humming to themselves. A shiver crawled across Honey’s spine as they felt eyes on them, a quick peripheral check gave them the all-clear so they paced their way over to the canned goods section, pulling out a few tins of fruits, and things like rice pudding.

After picking up a few other options, they began to turn around only to be stopped as their face planted against something warm, their throat letting out a small sound of distress.

“Ah, sorry about that!” A male voice chuckled, the owner stepping back a little. Kind blue eyes gazed at Honey, waiting for them to say something but all they could give was a questioning look at the man they had nearly bumped into the night before. “I wanted to apologise, again, for last night. I mean, I’m sorry I apologised for the driver and not my actions. I can’t believe I nearly walked into someone.” The previously drunk man rambled away. “I’m Julian, by the way. What’s your name?” Honey quickly replied with their name, shifting their weight from foot to foot slightly. They hadn’t had much interpersonal experience since working at the museum. And they quickly explained that, apologising in advance for being unfocused as they were preparing for something. They gazed off to the side, questioning themselves internally about why they told him. “So, what are you preparing for?” Julian asked gently, gesturing to Honey’s almost full backpack that almost resembled a turtle shell in how it was larger than the carrier's back. Honey muttered out about the plans of travelling to Kaedwen, shifting weight once again. “A journey, eh? Sounds like a brilliant opportunity to get some inspiration! Mind if I tag along?” Honey looked at him oddly, asking for clarification but accepting his company at the same time. “Thanks! I’m a musician, by trade.”

Julian threw Honey a soft smile before gently taking the basket from them, making a few suggestions about what to buy as he claimed to have some travel experience. He was quite happy to do the talking for the both of them, never prying for answers if he asked a question but Honey didn’t need any prying, they felt like they could tell him anything.

The musician was rather gung-ho about preparing for the journey, pulling up internet articles about what they could need for their ‘adventure’ as he called it, dashing around the marketplace and picking up item after item. He was surprisingly willing to share things about his life from being from a wealthy family to being a qualified music teacher but he pursued his love of writing and performing music, even travelling from the old city of Oxen. Also, it became evident that he either got along wonderfully with people or exactly the opposite as several women spat at him, calling him out for being a womaniser. Honey ignored it. Instead of focusing on their anger, Honey would change the topic and info dump about history, recalling things like Oxen and Nova’s original names. The women didn’t appreciate it but he did and seemed to encourage it with asking questions and even chipping in with some things he had heard, wondering if they were true or not.

Honey found Julian interesting, almost immediately enjoying the man’s company. The drunken version that appeared to the historian the night before was already a figment of the past in their mind. They were also slightly unnerved that an attractive man was talking to them, let alone so openly. His caramel hair seemed to have lighter, almost blonde streaks running through it were now more obvious in the bright light. His fluffy caramel hair and bright blue eyes made him very easy on the eyes, him being a musician and a poet made him an excellent conversationalist. It was no wonder why he was very lucky when it came to his sex life, the man was beautiful and him just smiling at Honey the right way made their cheeks flood with warmth. They knew they had to be careful around this man or they might just fuck up and fall in love.

Half a day had flown by when they finished shopping, Julian carrying most of it to the best of his ability. “So, why are we heading into Kaedwen?” The musician asked as they made their way to the stables at the edge of the city. While vehicles were the most common method of travel, horseback was the best way to get to the more overgrown parts of the region that people tended to avoid for whatever reason. And it was cheaper. Most learned to ride a horse before trying for their driver’s license for that reason. “From what I could recall from my school history lessons, that area has been abandoned for centuries. It’s a cursed land, or that’s what my overly religious teacher would say.” He watched as his new travel partner rented two horses, a dappled grey and a chestnut brown. “Here, let me help!” Julian called out, helping Honey get the two horses set up.

“There’s a castle there I want to check out. It could have some interesting documents that could prove useful to my work.” Honey explained, pulling a map out from the now packed saddlebag. “From Emiel’s research, Kaedwen is said to be beautiful so you should get plenty of inspiration from that alone.” Once deciding a route, they placed the map back in the bag before climbing up onto the brown horse, accidentally ignoring the happy sound Julian made. “I just hope we can make decent time, I don’t like the idea of Emiel working alone for too long, even if he gave me time off of work for this trip.” Honey brought the horse into a canter, currently aiming to take the horse south before heading east. Julian quickly followed behind on the grey horse, calling out for Honey to wait for him.

Their journey to Kaedwen had begun.


	3. Chapter 3

Three days was all it took for Julian to fish out his guitar, where he hid was beyond Honey’s belief but they didn’t question it. It kept him occupied when he wasn’t busy rambling away about one girl or another. As much as Honey wanted to tell the musician to shut up about his conquests, they were just too polite so they would often bite their tongue and ask him to play them a song. Julian didn’t mind in the slightest and Honey was beginning to suspect that he was annoying for the sole purpose of having someone request his talents. Though in those three days without the guitar, Honey found out that Julian was far too acquainted with various women in both Oxen and Nova, both single and married. He pouted when Honey made a comment about how it was a wonder he got away with just being spat at but he didn’t take it too seriously, claiming all his ‘misadventures’ were for the sake of finding love.

Honey gazed off to the side as Julian played yet another melody in the background, the sun was barely halfway through the sky as they travelled east. Their goal was to find the river that lead into Kaedwen and then head north after that until they reached the castle but that was easily a few weeks to nearly a month away. “Dark clouds in the distance might rain soon,” Honey called out, eyes narrowing at the grey clouds ahead of them before looking back at their companion. Julian looked as calm as ever, strumming gently on his guitar as he hummed to himself, only pausing to meet Honey’s gaze. Honey quickly turned to look forward, cheeks warming at being caught. They could tell that hijinks were going to ensue.

Soon, a week had passed. It was early morning and Honey had to check the map once again, checking off any key points to make sure they were going the right way before waking Julian. Turns out, he wasn’t a morning person, often groaning and grumbling away as he climbed out of his sleeping bag, his groans only getting worse as Honey teased him, calling him both grumpy and cute. The teasing only grew as they noticed his cheeks turn red. He got his revenge later in the day pulling his usual routine of talking about his conquests and when the song request inevitably came in, he began to sing about said conquests causing Honey to groan in frustration. “Alright, alright! I get it! I’m sorry!” They cried out, covering their ears. It was their turn to blush.

Four weeks in and Honey was seriously considering kissing Julian to shut him up but the fear of ruining their newfound friendship kept them from even trying. They had a good reason for feeling that way as Julian was still getting revenge for all the morning teasing at the beginning of their journey. The pair were sitting on opposite ends of their campfire, Julian had taken to playing the conquest song once again as he had gotten it through his head that Honey was cute when they were flustered much to Honey’s annoyance. Any awkwardness from a lack of social interaction that they had was gone by this point so Honey felt a bit more comfortable about putting their foot down about things which they had started to do over the previous few days. After an hour of the song, Honey walked over to their friend, leaned down and softly said: “Jules, keep playing that song and your guitar will end up with another hole and this time your head will be through it.” He was quick to shut up.

Finally, after a month and a half of travelling, the pair had reached Kaedwen. To celebrate the fact that one half of their journey was done, they popped open a bottle of wine from Toussaint. Honey couldn’t remember the name of it, only how warm it made their belly and how brave it made them as they sat on Julian’s lap and gave his cheek a messy kiss. The next day, they were more than glad that they had alcohol in their system so they could at least blame it on that. Julian could tell that they were panicking about it so just before they got up so they could saddle their horse, he leaned over and gently pecked their cheek. He didn’t comment on their reaction but he was glad he got to kiss them back. Honey’s cheeks took hours to cool down.

A few more weeks passed before they finally reached the castle. Autumn had fully kicked in by this point, a chilly breeze blowing by, taking the long days with it. The sky had already shifted into hues of pink and orange as the sun began to make its descent beyond the horizon, giving the structure in front of them an almost fairytale look as soft light defused the harsh greys. “Welcome to Kaer Morhen,” Honey mumbled in awe, gazing up at the ancient stonework, noticing the gouges and the huge hole in the gate. “Well, we won’t have to try and have to climb in.” They commented as they rode through the gap, Julian following closely behind. Honey quickly dismounted afterwards, letting their companion know that they were going to set up camp. Camp mostly consisted of their sleeping bags and a campfire. It wasn’t much but it was cosy and their budget couldn’t fit any tents in. They sighed internally, wishing they could have done more to prepare but if they took more time then there was a chance they wouldn’t have bumped into Julian and Honey could never regret that. Though they did wish that the arrived earlier in the day, the historian wanted to explore the place but it being nearly night meant they had to wait until morning. Despite their excitement, they also wanted to be as safe as possible and roaming around in an unfamiliar place at night was already dangerous enough - The fact it was decrepit castle just made it worse. Honey barely heard Julian calling out that he was going to collect firewood over their thoughts.

“This is exciting, isn’t it?” Julian chirped, carrying a decent bundle of wood. A smile was already plastered on his face but it grew as he noticed that the camp was fully set up – fire aside. “You didn’t have to do everything!” He joked, his happy tone never wavering as he knelt next to them and began to set up the wood in the circle of stones Honey had set up while he was away. “I can’t believe it’s here. It's real.” He spoke in awe, gazing around, swallowing down the odd feeling that was growing in his gut. Something about this place made him want to run far away but he couldn’t work out why. His light eyes flicked across the damage across the stone, nerves creeping further up his spine. Julian wouldn’t run though, even though he had gathered enough inspiration just travelling with Honey, he wasn’t going to abandon his friend. Warmth radiated from a small place on his arm, pulling the man out of his head as he looked down at the historian that he’d probably follow to the ends of the Earth. A small smile from Honey and all his nerves seemed to melt away.

The fire flickered lazily as the night drew on and the flame began to die down. Snores filled the air as Julian and the horses slept away while Honey struggled to even feel tired, their body acting as if they had consumed multiple cups of coffee but it was just because they wanted to poke around the castle. Shuffling beside them pulled their eyes off of the fire, Julian sitting up from his sleeping bag his voice in a yawn as he called for his friend to sleep beside him. “In a bit, I’m not tired yet.” That made him puff his cheeks up in a childish pout. “Honestly, I’m fine!” Honey giggled out, pulling the man by the arm so his head rested on their shoulder, the man returning the affection by nuzzling into the crook of their neck. Another yawn wracked through him, shaking him slightly. “Go back to sleep.” They cooed, stroking the musician’s soft hair, ignoring the way their heart almost skipped a beat as he moaned softly and leaned in more. Also, ignoring the small yawn that fluttered out of them. The caramel haired man sent them a pointed look before he sat up further, grabbing the bucket of water that he had fetched a few hours before and dumped the contents on the fire, snuffing the flame out and dropping the pair of them into darkness. “Alright, alright. Point taken.” They chuckled out as the pair fell backwards onto the sleeping bags under them.

Julian pulled Honey into his arms, shifting himself down so his head could rest on their chest, stopping them from being able to sit up or move away. “I’m not moving until you fall asleep…” His tired voice mumbled out after being asked why. Honey entertained the man’s clingy behaviour, pulling him closer and resting their chin on the top of his head. It felt comfortable but Honey was still too excited to sleep. “I’m glad I met you,” Julian whispered out, peering up at the person he was using as a pillow. “Even if we did first meet while I was nearly blackout drunk with a stranger hanging off of me.” He huffed a laugh out before looking off into the distance. Another moan slipped out of him as Honey’s fingers worked their way through his hair, massaging his scalp softly. “Your fingers are magical, I swear.” The sleepy man groaned out, pressing his head into them just a little bit more as he enjoyed the way they rubbed circles into him.

“I’m glad I met you too,” Honey replied. Their eyes meeting the bright blue ones that gazed happily up at them, reminding them of a puppy. “Aside from Emiel, you’re the first friend I’ve made since I moved to Nova. And it’s been a few years since then.” They mumbled out, feeling embarrassed to admit that they had become a loner since moving to the large city but their cheeks only began to burn when Julian commented how people didn’t know what they were missing out on. “People will think we’re in a relationship if you keep saying things like that, musician.” Honey jokingly scolded, scratching the man’s scalp and drawing another moan from him. “Didn’t expect you to have such a sensitive scalp, Pankratz.” They teased, pulling the man closer as they continued to work on his hair. Julian tried to hush them but buried his head against the side of their next as they continued to pull sounds out of him, his face redder than the fire that was burning just moments ago. He was panting by the time Honey pulled their hand away.

Huffs sounded out from the man before he pulled himself up slightly, half-heartedly glaring at the person staring back up at him. “That’s not fair!” He whined, reiterating a complaint that he sounded when Honey first found out about the fact he liked his hair being played with – that he didn’t know what made them act like that. “Anyway, what would it matter what people think? We know what we are, that’s all that counts and I like how close we are. And I mean it when I say that people are missing out.” The sincerity in his voice made a breath catch in Honey’s throat. “Besides, it would be a compliment if people thought a stunning person like you would put up with someone like me.” Cornflower eyes looked away, flustered by his admission. He hadn’t intended on voicing his attraction to them so soon. “I’ll be right by your side… as your wingman in making new friends!” A grin crossed his lips as he leaned down, grateful that his blush was being hidden by the dark of night.

Honey wanted to ask what he meant but shrugged it off. “Whatever you say, Jules. Doubt I could make friends without your charms, anyway.” They retorted. Julian’s nerves finally caught up with him as he allowed himself to drop next to them, placing himself right back in the position they were just in before he moved. He was quick to let exhaustion catch up to him. “Goodnight, Julian.” Honey cooed out as they watched the man fall asleep in their arms, any evidence that he was flustered was now gone as his face reflected that of peace.

Twenty long minutes went by before Honey’s eyes began to drop, exhaustion finally started to visit the historian. They only knew how long it had been thanks to their phone going off, letting them know Emiel was trying to message them. It was surprising that they had even one bar of signal out in the mountains. Honey turned slightly to get a better angle so they could fish their phone out of one of the bags that had been placed nearby as quickly opened the messaging app they had shown him a year or two prior. A quiet huff left them as they read over what he sent them. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

_Hello, dear. Are you anywhere near the castle, by now?_ Followed by: _Oh, you’ll probably be asleep by now. Sorry, I forgot you’re not as nocturnal as I am._

Honey internally sighed at the man’s ‘nocturnal’ nature before replying. _Arrived today. Was just about to head to sleep. Going to investigate in the morning. Speak to you soon!_ _Get some sleep!_ To which the man replied with a sticker. Honey bit back a laugh, surprised that he would even use digital stickers, he didn’t seem like the type. Another yawn left them as they turned further into their musician’s warm hold. The temperature kept dropping as the night drew on, so Julian’s high body temperature was heavily appreciated. Julian’s arms wrapped tighter around them, his head now resting in the crook of their neck, his soft breath gently brushing against the sensitive skin. The sensation made a shiver glide down their spine. Honey was glad he was fast asleep, keeping their advantage for just a bit longer. They rested their chin on top of his head once again, allowing their eyes to drop so the Sandman could grace them with a visit.

They couldn’t wait for the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

A whine left Honey’s throat as their body was shaken gently, the soft voice of Julian calling for them to wake up dragging them out of the realm of dreams. It was such a lovely dream too, not that Honey could recall most of it by the time they sat up and rubbed the sleep out of their eyes. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” The musician joked as he handed them some breakfast, a bowl of porridge that was more than likely cold because he always pulled it off of the fire too early to remain warm when served. Honey grumbled out a good morning before tackling the porridge. Julian sent a smile their way before poking at the campfire with a random stick he had found. It wasn’t often he got to see them like this, so he was going to enjoy it and not rush them. Honey had kept them to a routine so Julian deemed in necessary to take a break from that, besides they were at their destination, it wouldn’t hurt them to take a break. Unfortunately, his friend had other plans as he noticed them begin to walk further into the castle after they had finished eating. “W-Wait! Shouldn’t you wake up a bit more first?” He called out, barely moving from the campsite. The nerves from yesterday already had a hold on him again, and he couldn’t bring himself to follow them and a lump in his throat grew when they shrugged and asked if he was coming. “I-I think I’ll wait here! Someone needs to keep an eye on the horses!” He forced out a laugh in an attempt to mask his discomfort.

Honey shot him a look, confused about his sudden stutter but shrugged it off. It was rather cold, after all, and they didn’t want to accuse him of anything so they drew their lips into a tight line and walked on, stopping soon to look up the walls at what seemed to be extensive battle damage, huge chunks of the wall taken out in places. “Surprised that the place is even still standing…” They muttered to themselves. Something that was far too common when they were observing something. It was for focus, mostly. Julian just found it endearing, well, he found most of the things they did endearing. They did need to ask him why.

Cautiously, they continued their way inside watching the damage grow on the sides of the walls before they entered what they assumed was the courtyard. “This must have been where the battle happened.”Honey guessed as nervous eyes scanned the floor as quiet feet began to dance around. Various weapons like pitchforks and axes made the floor perilous but that’s not what made Honey’s heart hammer against their ribcage as they hopped from clear patch to clear patch, which was increasingly difficult as the patches grew smaller and smaller as they reached the middle of the courtyard. Honey went slowly. They didn’t want to accidentally step on anyone. Did nearly millennia-old skeletons still count as people? Honey thought they did. And that’s what the floor was littered with. Skeletons. They didn’t expect this, then again, they didn’t know what to expect. “What happened here…?” They whispered to themselves as if the skeletons could hear and would jump up and attack them at any moment.

Slowly, they reached the centre of the chaos – two bodies that seemed to be surrounded, one on their front and the other on their back. From where they were standing, they could tell that these two weren’t with the people. “Two forces…” Honey squatted down to get a closer look. “Decently armoured, not like the other bodies… Soldiers, maybe?” Their eyes gazed further up. “Two swords on both of them… Why two? A backup, maybe?” Their eyes zeroed in on something that peeked out of the armour of the body laying on their back. Honey’s gloved hand picked it up delicately, not moving it too far away, just close enough to see it. “A wolf pendant? No… medallion? Were these two witchers?” Honey whispered in awe, small drops of sadness crept in as they began to piece together what happened. “You two were just trying to defend your home… I’m so sorry…” They wished they could do something for them but at the same time, feared to move the bones both in the fear of wraiths being real and not wanting to disrespect the area.

A sigh of relief left the historian as the number of corpses became zero as they went inside, which meant one of two things – the witchers were successful in their defence and died in the process or the attackers got what they were after. Honey personally hoped that the witchers were successful but had a nasty feeling that the truth was quite the opposite. And the latter seemed to be more than likely as more weapons were scattered on the floor, stained with blood. “A struggle?” Honey asked out loud, examining some shattered furniture that seemed to have been thrown against the wall, a few scorch marks and bloodstains in the stone helped add to the theory. The castle interior was mostly empty aside from decaying furniture but they continued to walk through the area, passing from room to room trying to find anything that they could take back to Nova, be it a book or a scrap of paper. They could only imagine how grand the place was when it was fully maintained, old places like this were like art in Honey’s eyes. Though most knowledge of witchers was lost thanks to the Fire, a few things were known – Their famous eyes, notable witchers and that children were taken in and turned into witchers. Honey was curious what happened to those children as they made their way up a staircase but something told them that they didn’t want to find out, knowing how horrid history was to everyone.

Honey stopped outside a room, the door chained as if to cordon it off but time had eroded some of the links, leaving the chains lay loose at the foot of it. An odd humming sensation radiated from the room, like the buzzing of electric that you could feel deep in your bones or the bass of a loud song vibrating through the floor. Honey would say it was like feeling how a battery tastes. It felt as they were being drawn to the room but there was one problem. The door. There was a chance that it would open up easily, the metalwork as weak as the chains on the floor or it would be the exact opposite, the wood swelling and jamming the metalwork closed and age making the metal fuse to whatever was next to it. But, if working in a stable as a kid taught them anything, they could open any door with a little bit of force.

Okay, the heavy wooden door proved to be more of a challenge than Honey was expecting. They slammed their back against it repeatedly and tried to push it open with their back against the door but the wood barely creaked under the assault. “Open!” They barked through gritted teeth, using all the strength in their legs only to open the door an inch. “Just how heavy are you?!” Honey huffed out before pushing again, this time with their arms. “Fucking-!” They cried out as their face collided with the hard floor, the door slamming loudly against the wall it was hinged to before breaking and falling to the floor. Honey groaned before grumbling about the ‘stupid door’ and how it ‘felt like it did that on purpose’, which was nonsense obviously but it didn’t stop them from glaring at the shattered wood on the floor as they rubbed their nose hoping it wasn’t broken. The centrepiece of the room caught their attention after their anger at the door faded.

It was a statue, a man meditating as chains latched his arms to either side of the room which just enough slack so it was comfortable. The piece looked almost lifelike to the point Honey nearly became infatuated with it. His hair was half down, the top pulled back and tied up in a small ponytail, a rough stubble decorating his jaw, while a very prominent scar graced the left side of his face. Their gut sinking rapidly made Honey pull their hand back before they could commit to their habit of touching things as they wished to trace their fingers along the scar but something was screaming at them to not touch the statue itself, that it was dangerous to do so. It might have been triggered by the fact it looked like this man – witcher, Honey looked down and noticed a familiar looking medallion – had once been real, just turned to stone. Their eyes gazed over the man’s body, noting how he seemed to be in regular clothing when compared to the two armoured skeletons outside. Paying close attention to the face, they could see the ghost of sadness carved in as if he knew he was chained, never to be let go.

With a sigh that Emiel once joked should be a trademark of theirs, they copied the man’s position. Sitting on their legs in front of him. They wondered what he looked like, or even if he was the fabled Geralt of Rivia or even why someone would chain up a statue. Though they couldn’t ask him. Honey’s eyes drifted around the room before noticing odd carvings everywhere around the room, look at anything besides the statue and there was a carving. Look left – carving. Look right – carving. Look down, nothing? No, carving. So many carvings, it was dizzying. There seemed to be five designed, repeated over and over again throughout the room. Honey couldn’t place the language of the carvings which frustrated them, even if languages weren’t a strong suit for them they could still easily identify most thanks to Emiel’s teaching. Cautious as to not bump into anything, they pulled a pen and a scrap piece of paper out of their pocket and began to scribble the designs down, hoping Emiel would know what they meant. True, they could have always sent a picture but they enjoyed his explanations too much to miss out on them.

Upon noticing the room beginning to darken, Honey got up and headed back to camp. There was more work to be done the next day. The walk back seemed to drag on and on and on as Honey allowed what they found to settle on their mind. From what they saw, it seemed like local peasants had decided to attack the witchers for whatever reason, two stood to defend their home in the courtyard but eventually lost their lives and when there was no one in their way, the peasants stormed the castle for whatever reason. “The struggle indicated another fighter, another witcher most likely but what happened to them?”

“What happened to who?” Julian’s voice made Honey jump, their heart pounding in their chest once again. They didn’t even notice they had reached camp they were so locked into their thoughts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” He spoke softly as he took their hands into his own and guided them back to the sleeping bags. “So, did you find anything interesting? You were in there all day, I was just about to go in and collect you.” His face scrunched into one of confusion as Honey spoke about the statue and the carvings. “That’s an odd thing to have in a castle… A statue of a witcher meditating. Huh… Anything else?” Honey disclosed the theory they had to him. “A battle?! No wonder this place has so many notches taken out of it! It would also explain the hole in the gate. Anyway, want some food? I’ll fish out the jar of hot dogs.” Julian sang out, rummaging through the bags as he spoke. He truly was interested in what Honey was doing, the reason why they were in Kaedwen but speaking about it made him feel sick. It was like he was hearing his best friend was murdered after years of thinking that they had just been too busy to visit. Since Honey had left that morning, he had been struggling to keep his emotions in check, the lump in his throat made him feel as if he was moments away from both choking and falling headfirst into a panic attack. He had to sit on his hands to prevent himself from grabbing Honey and begging them to leave with him, something telling him that the place around them only brought death and misery but despite his mind racing a mile a minute, he swallowed his nerves and steadied his pride – for his Honey.

Julian was about to say something else when their phone cut him off. Honey shot him an apologetic smile, pulling up the messages from Emiel. _Really? That’s great. I hope you’re able to find something. All my notes suggested that the place had been completely abandoned._

Honey paused for a moment before deciding on what exactly to tell him. _Haven’t found any documents, just a lot of bodies. Seemed like there was a fight. I’ll be checking the rest of the place tomorrow._ They turned their phone off shortly after that, wanting to save on the battery that had rapidly drained overnight. “I’ll be heading back in tomorrow.” They announced to Julian, leaning against him as he cooked the hot dogs. The musician let out a small hum to let them know he heard them, his focus on cooking. “There’s something off about the room the statue is in, I’m hoping to find something, anything that might explain it and those damn carvings. Oh, thank you!” Honey tossed a smile to their musician as they accepted their food and began to chow down, only just now realising how hungry they had been. A small moan of satisfaction left them as they indulged in the unhealthy dinner. It slipped passed them just how Julian’s face began to heat up much like the fire in front of him. “You’re getting better!” They cheered out, leaning against him some more which made his face flush all the worse.

“Oh, please! You’re far better than I could ever be! My talents are musical, you’re talents must be everywhere else. After all, we complement each other!” Julian chirped out before taking a bite into his food, almost choking when he heard his Honey’s quip.

“Well, you compliment me at the very least!”


	5. Chapter 5

Morning came far too quickly for Julian’s liking as he woke up alone. He didn’t want Honey to go off into that dread-filled nightmare of a castle but he also knew there was no stopping them. The last few days had been hard on his heart because if it wasn’t obvious, he had a massive crush on his friend and he wanted to confess in just the right way. He decided, as he laid cold and alone that morning, that after Honey’s investigation was over that he’d lead them to a pretty enough area and serenade them to the best of his abilities. There was a good chance that Honey would reject him but at least his feelings were known and he wasn’t stewing in his growing feelings for them. Julian was surprised that Honey hadn’t realised that he was attracted to them but he guessed that was because their mind was elsewhere due to the mysterious carvings and chained statue.

Which was what Honey was busy staring at, trying to gain some, any motivation. There were few places yet to check in the castle and while they did come across a few books, it wasn’t much. There were a few notable finds in the forms of bestiaries of creatures that they had never heard of or seen. From necrophages to draconids and ogroids. The bestiaries were fascinating and a wonderful look into the work that the witchers did. The most notable bestiary book was notable for all the wrong reasons while being informative it was a pain to read.‘Ghouls and Alghouls’ was an interesting read if the dull and long-winded writing style could be ignored which was difficult, to say the least, it read very similar to what would happen if you got into a conversation with someone who tried too hard to appear smart, their use of uncommon or ‘intellectual’ words making them sound as if they were speaking a different language – sure, they were more precise but it left people wishing they would never speak again. Honey shook their head to yank their thoughts back onto something more relevant.

Honey walked over to the meditating man, squatting down to his level before their eyes drifted off to the carvings. “Let’s hope there’s something here to explain this…” Honey prayed as they left the room and made their way to the last area they had yet to explore.

It was a bedroom, quite a large one at that but it, like the main hall, had been destroyed leaving it not looking like a bedroom at all, being near enough empty. Honey knew where the bed was though, finding it outside the building – something about that seemed hilarious to Julian, the discovery sent the man into a giggling fit. The bedroom was more of a wreck than the main hall, the mess suggesting they were looking for something more so than a fight due to a lack of blood and the pieces of furniture that were left being tipped over instead of thrown and in pieces. Hope for finding anything was near enough nothing. But, they weren’t going to give up, they knew places like this had documents hidden in nooks and crannies and just about anywhere you could hide something. “Right, the first place to check is the floor,” They muttered. So, the long and arduous process of slowly crawling across the floor, pulling at the edges of the floorboards trying to see if any were loose. As well as being ultimately boring, it was also painful as splinters and old nails scratched at Honey’s skin, causing small lines of blood to bead up and slowly roll down their arms. Hisses and swears slipped from their lips but they kept going, slightly desperate to find something more than bestiaries to take home. “Nothing in the floor… Dammit.” Honey growled slightly, standing up slowly allowing their legs to stretch back out. “I think that’s the longest I’ve been on my knees before.” They joke to themselves before heading back to the doorway that lead into the room. “Need to check the walls next.”

The floorboards creaked and groaned as Honey slowly walked across them, hands sliding across the cool stone trying to find any loose bricks. The process took hours as it was just as slow and boring as dealing with the floorboards but at least they wouldn’t have any new cuts to add to the list. “Ah fuck!” Correction, they were less likely to have any new cuts to add to the list. Honey quickly pressed their now cut hand against their mouth, they never did understand why it was instinct to do that but they didn’t question it as they glared at the offending bit of rock. A small shine from the separation between it and another brick made Honey’s eyes narrow in. Upon further inspection, which was mostly poking at it they discovered that it was loose. Despite their hand being sore from the cut, they used it to wiggle out the stone, pulling it away from the wall to reveal that it was barely even a brick at all and in the space where it once was – A dagger, end sticking out of the wall just slightly and a rolled-up paper tucked at the back. Gently, Honey fished the paper out, keeping their cut away as to not stain it.

Fortunately, the roll didn’t break or disintegrate as Honey pulled it open. Immediately upon seeing the writing, Honey groaned internally. It was in ancient or old Common. The languages were near enough identical but certain distinctions completely changed the meaning. Ancient Common was, well, common anywhere from seven-hundred plus years prior while old Common was between then and the 17th century – it was a short-lived language as early modern Common quickly replaced it. Honey took an educated guess that was in ancient Common and tried their best to translate it.

To whoever reads this,

You’re probably, extremely confused. I mean this letter will be hidden, after all, but I’m not sure where else to turn. My family is being taken and murdered for no other reason than because they exist. Currently, Kaer Morhen is under attack by a bunch of riled up peasants that the Eternal Fire has sent. My father, Geralt and his brothers were holding off the attackers, I was helping before the peasants entered the main hall. I can only hope that Lambert and Eskel have just been knocked out but considering why they’re here, that’s probably not the case.

You’re probably wondering why the peasants are attacking. It’s to kill off the witchers for good and imprison Geralt and make a lesson out of him because that he’s one of the more famous ones. And that’s what they have done, they’ve chained him up in one of the rooms downstairs and locked me in here. Their plans now are to imprison the rest of Geralt’s friends but I won’t let them but I can’t help anyone just yet. I need to get away and hide for a little bit so please PLEASE free my father!

I heard the peasants talking about a key, that it was ‘thrown to the ash pile beside the castle walls’. If they’re talking about what I think they’re talking about then

Go find the key, rescue my father. I beg of you.

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Shit, Honey thought to themselves as they read through the letter a second time. They hadn’t intended to walk into something like this. “A key… probably good to try and find it.” Honey plucked the dagger that stabbed them from the nook and hooked it into their belt, it would prove useful if they needed to pry anything else so they didn’t need to hurt their fingers again. “Shame that Cirilla didn’t mention anything about those damn carvings… Now, an ash pile. Where would that be?” They mumbled, leaving the room behind and nearly running as they descended the stairs. There was a small cliff edge at the side of the castle that seemed to be where a funeral pyre once was so out of all the places an ‘ash pile’ could be, Honey hoped it would be there otherwise they would probably have to stay for weeks and scour the place from top to bottom just to find a single key.

The lonely musician’s head perked up as he noticed Honey walk towards camp before the red liquid dripping from various places on their arms, legs and specifically their hand caught his attention. “What happened?!” He cried out. Honey shrugged slightly, brushing off the pain and mentioning that they needed to head over to the cliff edge. Julian didn’t focus on what they said, mind in tunnel vision at the sight of his Honey bleeding. They sighed slightly, thanked him for his concern before walking out of the gate. “Wait!” Julian followed them out to the cliff edge, panicking about the cut on their hand that still dripped. “All I’m saying is let me cover it!” He pleaded, holding a scrap bit of cloth. Honey sent him a look to which he replied with a pout, his bright eyes widening into a very effective puppy-eyed look. That was all it took for them to yield, holding their wounded hand out so Julian could wrap it. His pout quickly turned to a triumphant smile as he thanked them, a part of him happy to know that he could get his way with such a simple tactic. “So… you think there’s a key hidden somewhere around here?” Honey nodded before kneeling beside the remains of the pyre. They began to lightly dig around, not wanting to have their good hand in the aged ashed for too long, or at all.

Eventually, their hand brushed against something cold and they pulled it up from the dirt, brushing it off against their jeans. “Found it!” Honey cheered as they clambered to stand using Julian to pull themselves up. “Now to find out where it belongs.” They mention, failing to see Julian’s face fall at the news that they’re heading back inside. He was hoping for at least some time with them before nightfall. He knew it was selfish, that they had their wants but he couldn’t help it. They had spent nearly two months practically glued at the hip and now he was spending days alone, sulking and plucking at his guitar, songs of woe fluttering out his throat. It must have been obvious that he was sulking again when Honey chirped out: “Do you want to have some food before I head back to work?” He perked up after that.

Hours ticked and ticked and ticked by as Honey searched high and low for the lock that the key matched, and hope slipped into nearly nothing as they landed back in the room with the statue. Honey sighed in frustration, back thudding against the wall as they sat down, knees pulled up to their chest as they gently hit their head against their knees. “What am I even doing…?” They mumbled out, feeling like a fool for running around in the wild goose chase they had put themselves into. “Where are there even any locks left? Wait a minute…” Their exhausted eyes flicked up at the statue. “There’s no way…” Honey paced over to the statue, the question as to why he was chained floating into their head once again. Slowly, they lifted the key, looking at it for a moment before sliding it into one of the shackle’s keyholes. With the sound of a small click, their eyes closed in disbelief. Chains rattling away, hitting the floor with a cluttered clang only confirmed their suspicions. The key was for the statue. “WHY?!” Honey yelled out, unreasonably angry at the situation. “Wait, wasn’t the key meant to be for Geralt?”

In need for confirmation, they pulled out the letter, hoping to get some answers. “No…” Honey breathed out as they reread Cirilla’s letter, focusing on how she talked about Geralt being chained up. “How did you end up becoming stone?!” They cried out. Petrification was a common curse used in fiction but to see a form of it right in front of them was something else, their mind struggling to comprehend that it might be possible but nothing said it was impossible. Their eyes drifted over to the markings on the floor nearby once again, for what felt like the countless time since they entered the Kaedwen region. “The carvings… Magic?” Honey squatted down at the closest carving and the closer they looked, the more the circle around the man became more obvious. “A magic circle. Wonder if breaking it will do something…” As they spoke out their thoughts, their injured hand plucked out the dagger and began attacking at one of the carved designs that littered the room.

Sweat dripped from their face as they worked, digging a line deeper and deeper through it until it was deeper than the original carving. They quickly moved onto another carving. And then another, and another, and another. Even more hours crawled by before every last design had a gouge taken out of it, Honey near enough collapsing in front of the statue, breathing heavily and watching as the dagger that had just slid out of their hand bounced away. “Fuck… All done…” A dry hand rubbed the pouring sweat from out of their eyes, the cooler weather had done nothing to help as their body tried its best to calm down.

CRACK!

It caught their attention, pulling their gaze over to the statue that now was littered with small breaks in the stonework, a light seeping out of those cracks. Rapidly it began to grow. It started to get intense, almost as if someone had condensed the sun into a small area without the heat behind it. Honey quickly brought their arms over their eyes and shuffled away. Soon the room was consumed by light and just as quickly as it began, it was over. THUD. Honey let out a confused sound before peaking over their forearm and then let out a squeal upon seeing him with his milk-white hair splayed out as he had fallen onto his front, panting heavily. Any signs of the statue were gone.

“Are you okay?” They called out, the fact he only knew ancient Common completely slipping their mind as they pulled his head to rest on their lap, making it so he laid on his side. “Gods, I can’t believe that worked…” Honey’s voice came out breathy before shifting into a quiet giggle but they tried to bite it back as they didn’t want to wake the sleeping man on their lap.

“Welcome to the new world, Geralt of Rivia.”


	6. Chapter 6

Geralt didn’t wake for a while, his body trying to gather energy after so long being imprisoned or at least that’s how Honey explained it to Julian who was still in shock at the fact Honey had found a witcher, an alive one at that. The musician had spat out his drink and was working up the courage to yell at them for bringing a homeless man to camp when he noticed Honey practically limp over, leg becoming cramped as they carried the witcher weakly on their back. When a man is pure muscle, he’s bound to be heavy. The historian was quick to explain even if it did resort to Julian nearly breaking out in laughter with how unbelievable it was but his voice died in his throat under Honey’s sharp glare. Julian got reminded of how scary Honey could be.

It was almost morning when the sleeping witcher moaned softly to the point of it being silent as he felt fingers brush through his hair, almost as if to gently coax him awake. The gesture was so delicate but it was pleasant, almost like a lover’s touch. He turned his head to the side in hopes of catching the glimpse of a familiar smell but was met with a unique blend of orchids and roses, his face twisted into a small frown that he couldn’t keep for long as the edges of sleep came back for him. Doe eyes watched him in awe as Honey continued to play with his hair, his head was once again on their lap while the rest of him was cocooned in their sleeping bag, the white standing out against the dark fabric of the blanket that they were using for warmth. Julian was off to the side, snoring gently as he usually did.

It was laughter that nearly woke him up next. A familiar voice, one he thought he wouldn’t hear again but the other was new. The old voice guffawed at something the new voice said, the new scolding him for being so loud. “Julian, he’s still asleep!” They hissed out quietly. Geralt wasn’t sure what language they were speaking in but he could guess what they said. The pair’s conversation bounced back and forth, the tone fluctuating ever so slightly but Geralt was able to tell that whoever was with his dear friend, that they were close, maybe even the early stages of a relationship. He hoped that his friend would be able to keep this one going. Before he fell back asleep, all he could think about was how pleasant their voice was. Honey hit Julian’s arm, scolding him once again as they noticed Geralt shifting in his sleep. “Honestly, I didn’t realise you were this loud.” They spoke quietly, almost whispering in the musician’s ear. “Anyway, time for lunch.”

The third time he woke was the one to do so fully, a gruff groan leaving him as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, his back and joints aching as he did. His body felt far too stiff. “What happened?” Geralt rasped lowly, a dry throat making speaking difficult. The witcher growled lowly to himself as he struggled to stand, kicking the sleeping bag off of his legs, the grating noise of crinkling and rustling filling his sensitive ears. He gazed around the campsite to find it beside the gate of Kaer Morhen, yellow eyes landing on the familiar face of Dandelion playing a weird lute off at the edge of the camp. “Dandelion.” His gruff voice called out, shakily walking his way over to the bard who was now looking at him in confusion. “Dandelion, what the hell happened? Where’s Lambert and Eskel? Where’s Ciri?” Dandelion’s face twisted further before he replied in a weird language. Geralt looked around some more, trying to see if this was some weird prank or if the owner of the other voice was nearby but had no such luck, his heart sinking when he couldn’t see any of his brothers’ or Ciri’s possessions. “Where is everyone?!” He barked at the bard, hoping to get an answer but wide, baffled blue eyes just stared back at him and the smell of fear clung to the air almost knocking the witcher off of his feet. His best friend was scared of him. Telltale stinging of tears graced Geralt as he began to move away. “Dandelion… don’t you recognise me?” Thankfully, in Geralt’s opinion, he was able to blink back the tears as he turned to examine the area some more.

The smell of orchids and roses was nearby, getting closer indicating the owner’s pending arrival but they were still a little ways off. Geralt focused his listening but his heart agonised over the fact that he could only hear three heartbeats – the person in approaching Kaer Morhen, Dandelion and himself. The lack of any sign of the wolves he grew up with or his child surprise tore at his heart and a part of him wanted to mimic the action in a more literal sense but he steadied himself – Stressing wouldn’t find them even if the only comfort he could muster was the faint hope that they were alive. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, Geralt turned to the bard and asked once more if he knew where his family was only to receive the same bewildered look. “Damn it Dandelion, stop playing around!” The witcher wasn’t going to allow himself to become the butt of a poor joke. Arms wrapped around him, stopping him from getting closer to his friend and that’s when he noticed the floral scent was now all around him, no fear seemed to emit from the person behind him and he didn’t know if it was them being brave or being foolish – the fact they didn’t hesitate in touching him made him lean towards the latter. “Let go of me! Where’s my family?!”

“Calm down, witcher.” Honey’s words came out shakily, making it obvious that they barely knew how to speak the language as it didn’t fit right in their mouth. “I’ll try and tell what I know... but I’m no good at this.” They cringed slightly at their bad attempt of ancient Common, reading had come to them far better than speaking ever did. Cautiously, they let the angry man go and moved around him to stand near the confused Julian before starting very rough introductions. Geralt’s face nearly mirrored Julian’s as the bard’s real name slipped from the historian’s lips, he had never known Dandelion to never mention his stage name to someone knowing how prideful of his work the bard was. It took Geralt a moment to realise he had tuned out of what the historian was saying but he did regret focusing on their voice when he heard: “I only came here to see about witchers, never expected to see so many bodies…” Honey barely had time to gesture towards the courtyard before Geralt sped off towards it. “Hey, wait!” They tried to reach out but the witcher was just a bit too quick, Honey’s foot landed wrong and they slipped.

A pained gasp sounded out, alerting to the nearby musician that his crush was hurt. “Honey!” Julian cried out as he knelt to help them, not realising what he had just said until the last moment but there was no time to be flustered as Honey hissed in pain, grabbing gently at their ankle. They tried to brush it off, saying they’ll be fine when they were interrupted by a howl of agony that sounded off from the distance. “Sounds like he found the other witchers…” Julian mumbled as he pulled his Honey up. “Shall we go?” He offered, feigning bravery as he didn’t want to be around the white-haired man, especially while he couldn’t reason with him. Honey nodded and began to limp towards the courtyard, using the wall as a crutch to take weight off of their throbbing ankle. Gulping down his nerves, he wrapped his arm around their midsection and guided them further in.

Honey’s eyes swelled with tears as they noticed Geralt leaning over the other witchers’ bodies, tears streaming down his face as he grasped tightly onto the aged armour on the bodies, his knuckles nearly turning as white as his hair. Honey couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, knowing the two on the floor were once extremely close to the witcher they had freed. “Geralt…” They whispered out, the volume of their voice becoming as quiet as anything as they hopped closer, leaving Julian behind for just a moment. Snarling made them pause, the dark eyes of a very pissed witcher glaring up at them. “I…” Honey didn’t know what to say so they didn’t say anything, only squeaking in surprise when Geralt screamed at them, cursed at them and threatened to kill them, the collar of their shirt getting tight as he lifted them in the air and yelled. They didn’t blame him for acting this way, no that wasn’t right, they couldn’t blame him for acting this way and they wouldn’t let anyone else blame him. Grief was different with everyone and he was allowed to be angry with the world, angry with them for not outright telling him about his brothers. All Honey could do was gently hold onto the hands that held them up, a sad attempt to comfort him but what else could they do? He was unlikely to talk to them for a while and he couldn’t communicate with Julian in any meaningful way, not with the language barrier. “I’m sorry…” It was barely even a whisper but Honey knew he heard it as his anger began to chip away into sorrow.

It was shortly after that that Geralt had let them down, his body shaking as he tried to fight his emotions. Julian, being the ever protective musician, gently guided Honey back to camp. “What the hell was that about?!” He tried to keep calm, not wanting Honey to deal with two angry men but his heart couldn’t help but burn after what Geralt did to them. His historian let out a small noise to let him know that they had no clue as they leaned against him by the fire, they were just happy to get off of their feet. “What do we do now?”

Honey’s eyes flicked over to the entrance to the courtyard and back, poking at the fire with the dedicated poking stick before answering, having a good feeling that Julian wasn’t going to like it. “Wait for him to calm down and then we try to convince him to come to Nova with us.” Honey stated honestly, gazing up at him to see an incredulous look on his face. “Don’t look at me like that. Emiel knows ancient Common far better than I do, he can talk to him, explain what happened and even translate for us what Geralt is saying in detail.” A sigh left them when the look didn’t leave his face. “Look, I get it. You’re not happy about what he did but he’s upset. How would you act if you woke up nearly 1000 years later, not realising that fact and discovered that your family died?” That made Julian look off to the side in thought, pulling yet another sigh from the aching historian. “I’m not saying you have to be friends with him, just don’t hate him.” Honey pleaded before leaning further into him, the pair intertwining in a tight hug as the fire roared on in front of them.

Shock was all Geralt could feel aside from the numbness that came with losing someone. He was so sure his brothers would survive. He even asked when he was beaten and chained. The witch hunter that lead the party promised him that they were okay. Another growl left him as he thought back to that day, how such a calm morning had become ransacked with chaos. Echoes of fighting and dying yells filled his head as he could practically see the sparks of clashing metal fly. Streams of tears flowed down his cheeks once again as he gently wrapped up the bones of one of his brothers with some surviving fabric he had found in the castle, he worked out from what little he had to work with that it was Eskel. Brief moments of their shared childhood came to the surface as he placed Eskel’s medallion down onto the pile and wrapped it into a bundle, he could recall the numerous pranks he and Eskel played on Vesemir, keeping the master witcher on his toes as he taught them to be like him. Dirty hands furiously wiped away his eyes before he moved on to wrapping Lambert up, as much as an ass Lambert was Geralt adored him none the less, his little brother meant as much to him as Eskel did, after all. He could practically hear Lambert chiding him for crying even though he’d most likely do the same. A shaky sigh and a small sniffle fluttered through the air as he gathered the bundles and carried them out to the cliff edge, ignoring the pair at the camp as he walked. There was nowhere else he going to bury them than near Vesemir’s final resting place.

The moon was overhead by the time Geralt decided to head back to the camp. Despite his long life and more than turbulent experiences, he swore he had never felt more exhausted. “Hey… You okay?” He heard the historian ask, them wincing soon after and he didn’t blame them. He didn’t know how to speak to people after they lost someone either, besides it was difficult to express yourself when you’re unfamiliar with a language. A short grunt left him as he plopped down on the opposite side of the fire, his cat eyes narrowing on the weakening flame. To be poetic for a brief moment, it reminded him of himself, barely there but continuing on all the same. Amber eyes flicked over to the historian. Geralt could tell almost straight away how badly Dandelion was pining after them, though it wasn’t uncommon for him to pine after someone for a while before moving onto someone else. The witcher gazed off to the side of his friend and noticed the spare wood and quickly worked out Dandelion’s plan of using the low flame as mood lighting, a sudden thought crossing his mind as he fought to keep his face straight.

Quietly, he cast igni making the small, dying fire burst with life as it roared up, not high enough to lick the top of the gateway but enough to make squeals of surprise fill the air, a small thud letting him know someone had fallen onto their back and that was when he allowed a small smirk crawl onto his face.


	7. Chapter 7

Convincing Geralt to travel with them was a lot easier than Honey had originally anticipated, they barely asked him to come with them when he replied with: “Where are we going?” Needless to say that they were thankful for the lack of struggle but it wasn’t hard to work out that he wanted time away from the area. It was noon by the time they had gathered up their supplies and prepared the horses, few words spoken between the trio but the silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable until it came to deciding who was riding what horse. Geralt was almost insistent on Julian walking, Julian refused that and tried to argue for another arrangement but any arguing was silenced when Honey climbed up behind Geralt. They needed to go over their altered map and it was easier to do with an experienced rider in front, which Julian was not. The musician gave the pair on the brown horse the silence treatment for the few days after that.

It took a few days for anyone to start speaking again. Granted it was a quiet conversation with Geralt trying to help Honey improve their ancient Common but at least it was something in Honey’s opinion. It was a good sign that he was okay with teaching them, right? At least they had some form of bonding. Julian kept up his silent treatment, he almost resented the witcher, he had just come into their lives and now he was absorbing all of Honey’s attention and left the musician no time to confess his feelings. He had tried to pull Honey away even if it was for a small moment to cuddle like they were doing before but Geralt would always pull them back into another lesson. It was like they caught in the vacuum of hyper-fixation that went by the name of Geralt of Rivia. Julian huffed and sulked at the edge of the campsite, Geralt had pulled Honey into yet another lesson, the fifth one for the day. Of course, he understood absolutely nothing which made his head run wild with ideas – What if he was being inappropriate? What if they were speaking bout him? What if he was flirting with his Honey?! The idea was scandalous and even ridiculous because of how Geralt was but it was enough for Julian to begin a week-long tirade.

What was that tirade, you ask? In true musician style, annoying Geralt with his guitar every chance he got.

Now, this wasn’t the same way he annoyed Honey on their journey to Kaedwen. The ‘conquest’ song was quite lovely to listen to, it was just the subject matter that bothered our dear historian. Julian was a musician, after all, so he knew how to make things sound pleasant to the ears but he also knew how to do the opposite to much effect. The bonus of Geralt being a witcher is that it was so much worse for him than for anyone else, and Julian liked that idea very much but if this didn’t get the witcher to stop taking so much of his Honey’s time then he wasn’t sure what else would. Yes, this was the only plan he had. There was a problem that he didn’t take into account, however, as he laid on his back, a dark flush painting his cheeks, staring deeply back at an almost violent glare, their legs pinning his arms to his sides so he couldn’t run and their arms on their side of his head to keep themselves up and so he couldn’t turn – He had annoyed Honey instead and strangely was loving the consequences. “Julian.” They regarded him stiffly. A cold chill of thrill running down his spine as he fought the dopey grin that was trying to cover his face, there was something about the dangerous glint in their eyes that made this position all the more delicious to him. “Quit. It.” They hissed, leaning up close so their nose brushed against his. Honey was pissed not just because of the awful racket that had come from Julian’s guitar the past week but also because he had been playing it almost non-stop and they were exhausted – Dark circles beginning to line underneath their eyes. “Or you lose that guitar and possibly even something else.” Julian shifted under them, his body growing far too hot far too quickly, he didn’t want them to feel what they had done to him. At least, not yet.

Honey let out an angry huff from their nose before moving to sit by Geralt, the man cupping their ears in advance – their only way of sleeping the past day or so. The witcher was able to tune the noise out so he focused on the one that couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why the bard was acting up, probably from a lack of attention but he didn’t care, it wasn’t far to the rest of them that he was having a temper tantrum. Amber eyes gazed over to Julian after Honey fell asleep, taking a quick look at him before looking away and muttering something that sounded a lot like: “Pervert.” Blue eyes now on him, he bit back a smile and instead moved his hands from Honey’s ears to one gently stroking their hair and the other holding himself up, they had taken to using his arm as a pillow since he started helping them rest. Geralt made a motion that told his friend to rest as well, the witcher was going to keep watch and laugh quietly to himself – Dandelion was a loved up idiot.

Only a few days ticked by before Julian was vying for Honey’s attention once again, this time less musically as he asked them for the twelfth time that morning to ride with him. He knew why they didn’t ride with him but it felt like a silly reason for it to happen day in and day out as they didn’t need to check the map constantly. And he made that argument often. A sigh left Honey as they turned to look at the musician while he felt his heart skip a beat as their eyes met. Geralt quickly leaned down and muttered something, making Honey’s face heat up and Julian’s eyes narrow at him. They turned to look at the white-haired man, an unspoken question in the air to which he responded with a nod that made their face warm further. Julian still didn’t get his way as the trio took to the road, his cheeks puffed up in a childish pout and occasionally glaring at the man that now sat behind his Honey.

Turns out, it was Geralt’s turn to be the guide.

Another week in and Julian getting fed up of the new roles that the two on the brown horse took. He didn’t like Geralt holding Honey, didn’t like him whispering things to them and making them laugh. True, Julian did say he’d be their wingman to getting new friends but this was making him see red or maybe he was being selfish as Honey had gone out of their way to spend more time with them when the sun set, cuddling up to him and keeping him warm at night while Geralt kept watch. A sigh left him as he glanced once again at the pair riding next to him, Geralt’s arms were wrapped loosely around Honey’s waist, his head resting on their shoulder. The two chatted away about what seemed to be nothing, his stubbornness kept him from taking Honey’s offer to teach him the language though it was probably a good thing as he didn’t get to hear that Geralt had taken to calling his Honey from the same nickname.

“Honey, what is he to you anyway?” Geralt muttered, his cat-like eyes looking over to the bard before shifting back to looking ahead. The witcher wasn’t blind, nor was he deaf. Quite the opposite he knew that Dandelion had feelings for them, he saw the blushing, saw the odd behaviour, heard Dandelion’s heart pounding and skipping a beat because of them but he couldn’t understand why nothing had been done yet. Maybe Honey already knew and rejected him, it wouldn’t be the first time Dandelion was going after someone that had turned him down but Geralt wanted to be sure. Even if his friend no longer knew the language, he’d try and talk him down if that was the case, if not, he’d leave it be.

Geralt felt Honey hum in thought, the vibrations felt like a purr against his chest. “I’m not sure. We’re friends but there’s something more there. I won’t push it though, in case I’m reading things wrong.” Ah, so they were just bad at reading signals. The witcher chuckled at the thought, pulling them closer slightly, a twinge of pride rolling through him as he could hear their growing confidence at speaking in Common. They kept what they said simple but their tone filled in for what their words lacked. It was then he realised just how quickly this person had slipped behind his walls, it was so easy to be around them, almost as if they were an old friend. His mind flicked to his brothers, he wondered what they would say in this situation, what they would do. Would they be so close to Honey too? Probably not, it might just be the fact that his best friend was so attached to them, that he knew Honey was a good person that made it easy for him to get close to them. At least, that’s how he justified it.

The month flew by without too much incident, thankfully, and the trio were finally able to get their horses to the stables that was their home. With the rental fees paid, Honey took the hands of their companions and lead them through the city of Nova. They never expected to miss it but months on the road had left them homesick and desperately missing work, a small part of them even missed the screeching of their neighbours as they fought over nothing, Honey almost wanted to slip back into the routine they had become so used to but with their new friends in their life, they knew that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. It brought a smile to their face. The witcher and musician shared a glance before smiles slipped onto their faces at the sight of Honey’s determination and relief at being home.

Honey ignored the stares that Geralt attracted, their stride never slowing as they walked almost on autopilot towards the museum.

Emiel was once again working on restoring his passion project when the sound of a door opening elsewhere in the building let him know that his friend was home. A small smile crossed his face as he delicately put the book he was working on away and walked out to the main hall, Honey’s explanations of one of the exhibits made that smile grow, not just because the museum had a guest but because Honey was speaking to the guest without a problem. His pace towards the group faltered once the stark white hair came into view, cat eyes quickly trained on him making him stop altogether. “G-Geralt?!” The poor man exclaimed, trying to work out how the witcher was there. Without much thought, he switched to ancient Common. “How are you here? It’s been 900 years!” Soon he was in front of the witcher, a smile on both of their faces as they embraced each other in greeting. “When I heard that my mentee was going to Kaer Morhen I never expected…”

Geralt chuckled as his old friend rambled away. It took a moment before what he had said clicked with the witcher. His face fell as he asked: “Regis, has it been that long?” A small hiss left him as he watched the vampire nod solemnly. He had been stuck in that room for nine centuries, no wonder Dandelion didn’t know him. Amber eyes looked towards the bard sadly as the realisation came to him – that man wasn’t Dandelion, wasn’t his friend. It was obvious that he’d act weird, Geralt was just a stranger to him. Geralt cursed internally at himself for being so blind. “I’m guessing you’d want to know where I’ve been?” Regis nodded almost instantly, gesturing for the witcher to follow him towards the back room. The whole group followed, Honey looking between the two curiously while Dandelion – Julian, Geralt had to remind himself – just looked confused. He made sure everyone was sat down in the workroom before he began. “Honey, please try to translate to Julian?” He waited for them to nod. “Thanks. Okay, I’ll try and keep it short. The Eternal Fire had riled up some peasants, nothing unusual for Kaer Morhen at this point but, of course, there was even less of us to defend our home. Lambert and Eskel took to being the front line while Ciri and I waited in the main hall, the plan was if they were getting overwhelmed that they’d join us but then the peasants got in…” Geralt looked down, focusing on his hands that were resting on his knees. He was fighting tears once again as he thought back to seeing his brothers’ bodies. “We tried our best to fight them off but the numbers overwhelmed us. Ciri got caught first, used as a distraction so I’d be easier to tie up. We were taken to different parts of the castle… I was chained and was forced to wait for something, so waited I did. I meditated. Next thing I know, I woke up at a campsite with these two. Lambert and Eskel were killed in the fight. Ciri’s still missing…” Regis was in shock, he never expected things to get so bad after he moved to Nilfgaard and he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty at the fact he wasn’t there to help his friend.

The room became almost deathly quiet after Geralt explained what had happened. Regis was trying to comprehend what to say, Honey was looking between him and the witcher confused as to why they acted like they knew each other and Julian was regretting acting like a complete arse to the man, feeling as if his closeness to Honey was a coping mechanism. Honey commented about the time which had the vampire snap out of his thoughts and bid them goodnight, sending them home before it got too late like he usually did. They sent him a look before giving him a quick nod and asking Julian to follow, leaving the witcher and his friend by themselves in silence. After an hour, Regis spoke once again, clapping his hands against his knees and standing up to catch the White Wolf’s attention. “I’ll try and help you as much as I can. You know that, friend. But, for me to help you to the best of my abilities you’re going to have to adapt to the times. It sounds like quite the thing to ask but it would also help your new friends. So, for starters, you need to learn modern Common. Sound like a plan?” He spoke confidently but politely, he wasn’t Regis if he wasn’t incredibly polite, after all. The vampire made his way over to his desk and picked up a book, one that he was using to teach Honey about ancient Common – a dictionary he had complied over the years. He didn’t need to look at his friend to know what he had decided, all he had to do was wait until he heard it.

“Sure, let’s do it.”


	8. Chapter 8

While Regis and Geralt toiled away with modern Common, something couldn’t leave Honey’s mind – what happened to Ciri. There was a huge question mark in the air surrounding what happened to her and Honey didn’t want Geralt to worry about finding her, he had already been through so much. Of course, Honey had to ask their mentor for some leads, keeping it to texts as to not interrupt his work with Geralt. Regis had sent a list of names to look into that might point the way – Triss Merigold, Yennefer of Vengerberg and Dandelion.

Only one of those names had any solid connections be it some documents about his whereabouts and a building he used to own that was still in business in Nova in the present day. Honey took to scouring the dusty archives that they and the professor rarely touched as the articles held there were usually too damaged to be restored or were cast aside due to anger. That was mostly Regis’ doing, though, now knowing how old he supposedly was, it made sense. Julian had taken the other lead, he was the people person out of the two. Dandelion’s whereabouts in the faded Eternal Fire paperwork was difficult to read, language aside as the Fire had no intention of keeping the papers for long so it was poorly kept, time had nearly consumed it when Honey had stumbled across it in the archives. A muffled sneeze left the historian as their mask tried its best to fight the dust that coated the area. Regis didn’t like the archives for personal reasons, Honey didn’t like the archives because of the excessive dust.

It was known to history that the Eternal Fire would hunt people indiscriminately so they could either burn them alive or imprison them. Usually, it was those accused of using magic that got burnt and those who associated with magic users that were thrown into a cell. Despite knowing that the man was most likely thrown in prison, it was a question of whereas even in the Fire’s dying days they had hundreds of prisons, both known and hidden. The Eternal Fire’s paperwork was a help, but whoever wrote down the locations kept it to a general location without any signs of a map or key markers to look for. Honey gazed down the large list of people before seeing the faded name which was difficult to make out, a portion of the name completely gone.

-an ‘Dandelion’ Pankratz

“Pankratz? Huh, Julian’s relative perhaps?” Honey muttered before looking over to the prison’s location. “Southern Velen?!” They yelled in surprise after reading the crumbling paper. They hadn’t expected the Fire to take someone so far just so they can imprison them. The historian sighed and gently placed the parchment back into the draw that it usually rested in. “Shit, the Velen border… It’ll take months to get there…” They lamented with a whine before accepting their fate and gathered their travelling supplies, it was kept together since they got back aside from the clothes being washed and the food being replaced. As much as they wanted to tell one of the others that they were heading out, Honey didn’t have it in them to ask someone to come with them as they didn’t want to bother anyone. Honey had to ignore their heart sinking as they realised they’d have to go alone.

Back at the stables once again, the chestnut horse trotted over, nose bumping against Honey’s face causing them to giggle and lifting their spirits ever so slightly. “Hey, you…” They whispered out, patting the horse’s side ever so gently.

“You can have her if you want.” Honey squeaked in surprise before turning to look at the elderly stable owner who sat from his chair at the front of his house that the stables were attached to. They stuttered out an ‘excuse me?’ as their eyes flickered between the man and the horse. “I said you can have her. She’s never been attached to someone like she has been to you and I subscribe to the belief that animals choose who they belong with, not the other way around.” Honey lets out another small squeak before pulling out their wallet, fiddling with it to signal about payment. “Just pay the amount you gave me last time, you’ll still be allowed to use the stables, you just don’t have to keep paying to ride her.” He explained, hobbling over to them gently taking the money that Honey held out for him. Honey thanked the man and set the horse up.

Soon enough, Honey was back on the road.

Days quickly turned to weeks and the weeks turned to nearly two months on the road, days seeming to gel into each other and to Honey, it felt like they had been travelling for far longer than the actual length of time. Maybe it was because they were alone, horse aside. Honey felt incredibly lonely and it was starting to get to them. Especially the silence. The silence was near enough deafening so they took to muttering soft words to their horse to fill the void. “I need to give you a name, don’t I…” Honey spoke in a hushed voice, patting the horse’s nose gently as they watched the fire near them crackle away. It was pitch black and cold as winter had settled in. Honey and their horse were wrapped up in blankets and sat together for warmth. “But what do I call you?” Honey pondered, their hand moving from the horse’s nose to the top of her head, the horse was laying behind nearly curling around the historian. The mare huffed gently before softly bumping her nose against Honey’s cheek. “Geralt would name you Roach. Julian would probably name you after a flower or a song… I mean they both call me Honey so they’re not too great at names… Wait!” A lightbulb moment. “I could call you Bumblebee! That way we’d match.” They giggled to themselves, fingers now running through Bumblebee’s mane. Bumblebee huffed again, almost as if she was agreeing to the name but even if the mare didn’t like it, the name was already in the air and Honey liked it. At least Honey had one friend with them.

The morning sun crawled over them, clawing away at the Sandman’s grip on the lone traveller. A small stifled yawn left Honey, their limbs pulling out in a shaky stretch, Bumblebee did something similar before both stood up, their blankets still wrapped over them. Stiff joints popped and complained as Honey slowly put things away and hopped onto Bumblebee’s back. According to a few locals, there was a large cave near the border that was deemed haunted and from what Honey could work out from how people described it, used to be guarded by members of the Fire before they burnt out. The cave wasn’t too far away but night came too quickly for them to make the trip a day shorter. “Nearly done and when we get back, it will be the start of spring…” Honey muttered as they ushered Bumblebee into a canter, tired eyes keeping an eye out for the cave entrance. “I wonder if Julian and Geralt will still be my friend when I get back…” They whimpered slightly at the thought that the pair would abandon them even though they felt as if the guys would have the right to.

Honey hopped off of Bumblebee with a solid thud as they approached the cave. Caution carried them forwards, their footsteps almost silent as they moved further and further into the large damp hollow. The cavern’s corridor eventually lead into a carved out room, pieces of decayed furniture indicating that it used to be lived in, there were ripped apart tents and falling apart weapon stands that guards or bandits must have used over the centuries. Random bits and pieces littered the floor as if the last residents left in a hurry. There were a few openings that lead to other parts of the cave but they didn’t interest Honey, what did interest Honey was a door. A large stone door embedded on a cave wall at the other end of the room. It was intimidating but also beckoned attention with how imposing it was. The historian paced closer, eyes focused on the massive seam carved into the stone which showed that it opened from the middle. “Cool…” Awe swept through them as they craned their neck up to look at the stonework.

A horrified gasp escaped them as they dodged to the side, back nearly flushed to the wall as their chest heaved to try and settle their rattled nerves. “What the fuck…” Honey breathed out, hand clutching their chest almost trying to hide their heart. Thoughts rushed through their head as they stared down at the massive spikes that slowly sank back down into their hiding place in the floor. They recalled what had happened. Their hand had briefly touched a small marking on the stone, it stone seemed to sink into a recess, the sound of something under them had given them enough of a warning to move out of the way so they didn’t end up being impaled. It was a good thing that the old mechanism had become slow from the lack of use otherwise they probably wouldn’t be standing. Honey turned to look towards the door and notices more sections that looked like they could move. “Great, a puzzle door. I’m going to be here a while.”

Meanwhile, back in Nova. A certain musician huffed as he plopped down onto his sofa, his heart aching as yet another call to his love failed to go through. He had been trying to call them all week but they wouldn’t answer. Julian fiddled with his phone and opened up the last message he had received from them. _Hey Jules, I’m only halfway there, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine._ That was about a month ago and he hadn’t heard from them since. He was told not to worry by not just Honey but the others but he couldn’t help it, he wanted to see them more than anything.

In the past few months, he had been busy working up a rapport with the owners of the Chameleon, descendants of the girlfriend of the Dandelion guy they were trying to find out about. Geralt had tried to help but with his limited knowledge of modern Common and his cold exterior, it had accidentally set progress back because they thought the pair were marking the place. It was a valid concern, the Chameleon was Nova’s art central, containing rare art pieces and even rarer music sheets and it was very, very private. You needed to be invited by the owners to even get through the front door. Julian sighed as he thought over all the flirting he had to do and put up with for him to get the invite, he didn’t want to charm his way into the building but his connections didn’t work out even though he came from a prestigious background. It was an understatement to say he felt like absolute shit for having another person fall for him when all he wanted was Honey, it wasn’t cheating but he compared it to that often enough that Geralt had to gag the man with the scarf the musician had taken to wearing. Another sigh left him as he gazed towards the stairs, he didn’t want to go the event the Chameleon was hosting but he had no other choice, he didn’t want to disappoint his Honey.

“Stop complaining and go get dressed.” Geralt said, pushing the smaller man towards the stairs. The witcher had been living with him since Honey had left, mostly because he had no other choice. Regis lived at the museum and no one had a spare key to Honey’s home, and he wouldn’t stay there without their permission. Most of the witcher’s practice with the advanced language was telling Julian off but the musician would listen to him so he didn’t mind.

Now dressed up almost as fancily as he would for a wedding, his hair slicked back to further the point, Julian knocked on the Chameleon’s door. He fiddled with the dark blue suit jacket’s button, making sure they were done up before his hands moved up to straighten his tie. Pamela, the eldest of the twins that ran the building, opened up the door with a coy smile. She was the one Julian had to charm, as the other twin wasn’t interested in anyone. Now, Pamela was a lovely woman in Julian’s opinion but her hypersexuality was causing a problem with his plan on keeping the flirting innocent. The elder twin cooed the musician’s name before wrapping her long, slender arms around one of his and pulled him in and over to the younger twin who looked at him with pity, understanding that he was uncomfortable with how touchy her sister was. The younger twin went by the name of Angela. Despite being the younger twin, she was the taller of the two but it didn’t stop her from dressing up, even if Pamela did scold her for keeping her hair short. Angela sent Julian a wink before commenting on Pam’s smeared makeup which sent Pam into a panic as she ran off to fix it. Angela sent him a smile before walking off.

Relief washed over him, a shiver crawling down his spine as he brushed off the feeling of unwanted attention. Don’t get him wrong, he was a sexual person but he currently only wanted affection from one person. Julian used the time he had alone to sneak down into the basement, figuring that it was the most likely place that old things were stored. It was either a basement or an attic.

The basement beyond the alcohol and food storage was a mess as if it hadn’t been touched in years. Julian had to hold back a squeal as a rat brushed past his foot as he continued to go deeper into the basement. “Ew, ew, ew…” As much as he wanted to touch the walls so he had something to lean against, he could tell that it was covered in wet, slimy moss or algae as the old water pipes above began to fail and leak through. Despite his protests, he kept going. For his Honey. After a small trek, he came across an aged wooden door that had decayed so badly that touching it gently had it falling to pieces at his feet. “Well then.” He muttered before scouring through the room. His fingers stopped skimming through the piles of paperwork when he noticed the insignia of the Eternal Fire, he knew that Dandelion had been imprisoned by them thanks to Honey so he read through it as well as he could before he quickly stopped, he forgot he couldn’t read ancient Common. “Well, at least I have something to give to Regis,” Julian commented before noticing something.

It was a name. Normally, people would just brush over it but his eyes couldn’t help but zero in on it. It was almost instinctual. “Julian Alfred Pankratz… That’s my name!” He squeaked out, absent-mindedly rolling up he paper and putting it away as he turned and leaned against the desk that the papers were stacked on. He and Dandelion had the same name. “Small world!” He nervously laughed off. It had to be a coincidence, it couldn’t be anything but in his opinion. “Just a coincidence… has to be.” His blue eyes widened as he noticed the same cornflower blue eyes staring back at him. “No way…” Julian muttered, walking over to the framed canvas. It was a painting, of Dandelion no doubt as the man was a bard, lute in hand and bright clothing caught the eye. There was a name painted into the lute implying a carving, the sight of it confirming that it was Dandelion. Julian scanned the man in the painting. It was nauseating to look at the same eyes, the same caramel hair, even the same facial hair because there was no way someone from centuries ago had the same name and looked just like him. It was almost looking in a mirror. Julian had to admit it to himself. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a coincidence after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, 8 chapters in. Thank you for your wonderful comments! This is my first time writing these characters and I was worried about that being obvious. I think this is the fastest I've ever worked on a story. Don't worry if I being to slow down. I don't want to end up burnt out.  
> Oh, um... I guess I should use this to promo myself.  
> I have a twitter, tumblr, deviantart, wattpad (which I rarely use) so ask if you want those.  
> I also use telegram and discord if you want to talk.  
> I have a discord server I have recently made so let me know if you guys want a link? I also have a ko-fi and a patreon.  
> I do take requests as well!


	9. Chapter 9

Shattered nerves were haphazardly glued back together as Julian silently scampered out of the Chameleon, his chest heaving slightly at the implications of what the painting meant and the fact he had just stolen from some very influential people but also the thrill and relief of it all, that he had successfully gotten away with it and now he didn’t need to see Pamela ever again, hopefully. He tugged at the tight suit, loosening a few buttons and his tie as he rushed through the city, only walking fast as to not avoid too much attention. It was rather difficult to look normal as a man trying to confidently power-walk in a suit that’s a tad too small – to accentuate certain areas – all the while trying to keep the look of being shit scared of possibility being caught for the theft from creeping onto his face. He wasn’t made for this and it showed. Julian knew he had to calm his nerves and there was only one way as of present that was entirely effective – Honey.

Julian’s thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to his Honey, if they would be proud or if they’d like the way he looked, he wanted their attention on him, even if he shared them with Geralt – yes, the possibility had crossed his mind and yes, he did blurt it out to the witcher, some beer now stained his floor thanks to Geralt’s shock.

He chuckled to himself as he recalled that conversation, Julian had never expected to hear the quiet man stutter out a response. It was only the other day that it had come into the conversation. Julian was once again sulking on his sofa, yearning to hear from his Honey and hating only having them in his thoughts. “Are you sulking again?” Geralt scolded as he sat down on an armchair he had taken to sitting in often, a glass stein full of beer in hand. Julian shot him a look that begged for pity before pouting and replaying a video message Honey had sent him a week into their travel. Their smile immediately pulling one onto his face and unknowingly, the sound of the video made Geralt smile too. Their shared fondness of the historian made it easier for them to get along, especially now they didn’t have a language barrier.

“Of course I’m sulking. I have yet to hear from them and I have yet to confess my undying love for them!” Julian remarked, replaying a part of the video where Honey began to info dump about the history of the area around them, he had their words memorised by that point much to Geralt’s annoyance. Even Geralt could recite what they said, and he wasn’t even the one watching the video. Honey consumed most of Julian’s love ridden thoughts, which often left him expressing said thoughts aloud to the world like he was asking for advice. It worried Geralt, honestly but the musician’s life wasn’t any worse for it and didn’t seem to be interfering with his health if it did, Geralt would keep Honey away from him. Geralt zoned back into Julian’s ramblings near the end of an hour that had slipped by. “I wonder if they’d accept me…” He wondered out loud.

Geralt huffed, taking a swig from the now half-filled stein before sitting forward. “Well, you seem to be restraining that natural urge of yours to fall in love with everyone you talk to so you have that going for you. Dandelion couldn’t help himself.” Amber eyes looked into the distance as he thought about his best friend. He had hoped that the bard would eventually settle down and live a happy life, family and all but life was never that kind it seemed as they had found out that his establishment had been taken over by Priscilla's and a random Redanian’s descendants. He had tried to even find information about Zoltan and Dudu but the pair seemed to hide so well that not even Regis and all his documents of the past could track them down.

The caramel-haired man smiled gently at the attempt of a compliment. “Yeah well, I can’t focus on anyone else but them any more it seems so that helps.” Upon several quiet moments ticking by, Julian looked over to the witcher, noticing the far-away look in his cat eyes. It wasn’t unusual for Geralt to end up like that, thinking about the past while sipping slowly on some alcohol. It was a good thing that the musician was rich otherwise he’d have trouble replacing his stash of booze with how Geralt seemed to burn through it. A hum of laughter flitted through him as he began to imagine how Honey would most likely scold the pair for drinking so carelessly, their hands on their hips and their perfect lips curled into a cute frown-like pout. He would try and kiss a smile onto their face, make them giggle at his affection as he ticked them with his facial hair, he wondered if that would work. He wondered how Geralt would react, wondered if the stoic man would try a similar tactic of trying to sway their emotions. “Do you think that Honey would rather a monogamous relationship or a poly one…?” Julian voiced his thoughts, his head tilting towards the white-haired man who gave him an indifferent grunt in response.

Geralt huffed, a bit uncomfortable about the topic of Honey being in a relationship not that he could work out why. He didn’t even want to entertain the idea, he liked how things were, he liked the dynamic the three of them had and a relationship would change that. But, he couldn’t help but ask: “Who would they even include in that relationship? You and…?”

It was a good question, in Julian’s opinion. Who would he share his lovely Honey with?

Obviously, not Regis, the pair were just friends and Regis didn’t seem too interested in finding love from what Julian could tell. He didn’t want to share them with a perfect stranger, that could make things awkward with the small friendship group they had. He could always introduce Honey to one of his college friends or old co-workers but he didn’t want his past to infiltrate his little bubble of peace, there was a reason he no longer lived in Oxen. The loved up musician ran through the imaginary list of people, crossing off all those who he deemed incompatible.

Geralt watched the man with an amused look, surprised that he was thinking so hard about something that, at the end of the day. didn’t even matter, the witcher knew that it was more likely than not that Honey would be monogamous, most people were, but he guessed the speculation could be entertaining to some degree. Besides, if Honey wanted someone Julian didn’t like, that would be their choice and Geralt wouldn’t fight it. Love was love, wasn’t it? As long as it was between consenting adults, no one’s opinions, aside from the lovers in question, really mattered. Or that’s how he tried to justify it. He still didn’t want things to change though.

Eventually, Julian concluded that there was only one person who seemed to fit the bill, the other member of their group. Sure, the man was more than a little emotionally constipated but he seemed to ease up as time went by, his walls slowly cracking as someone would spend time with him, Julian was already considering him a good friend despite his initial dislike and distrust of the witcher. The musician sang out a thoughtful hum, trying to work out if he should give Geralt the answer.

Sitting up in one quick movement, the musician’s face grew a small smirk as he pulled his phone to his face, pretending to do something to add to his act as he voiced his reply in an ever so innocent voice. “The only person I’d share Honey with is you.” And there went the beer and a very expensive rug.

Mind now back to the present, Julian slipped into the museum, some of his hair now hanging down his face making it awkward to see but he didn’t stop until he was near enough shoving the letter in Regis’ face. “I found something!” He beamed at the vampire, happy to be useful when he couldn’t bring himself to help at the castle. Regis gingerly took the paper from him, eyes quickly skimming through the words before his jaw visibly clenched. “Something wrong? Regis?” Julian asked softly but any further words were caught in his throat as he saw Geralt walk in. The two shared a look before Geralt repeated Julian’s question. The vampire’s lips were practically sealed shut into a thin line as he scanned the paper once, twice, three times more, faint distress painting his face. Any attempt Geralt made to move near him was stopped by Julian who worked up the courage to ask: “Can you translate it?” So the ancient pair wouldn’t have to suffer the bad news alone.

Hesitantly, Regis nodded before clearing his throat. He was going to regret reading this letter, he just knew it.

In the meantime, Honey had opened the door through a rather painful version of trial and error, boots now with chunks carved out from near misses. They now sat against a wall on the other side of the door and looked down into the long corridor that seemed to be endless cell doors that confirmed just where they were, what else could scream prison than iron bars. Honey had briefly checked through the gaps in the iron bar doors, most cells containing nothing while a few had the errant object here and there. At the end of the corridor was another door but they had exhausted themselves with trying to open the stone door so they chose to rest, eyes resting at the other end at the unexplored room almost as if they were watching to see if anything would leave it.

“ _This is a letter of notice to inform that Julian Alfred Pankratz,_ _Viscount de Lettenhove, alias Dandelion, has been imprisoned due to connections with several mages, non-humans and other beings – notably the mutant Geralt of Rivia. This letter is to provide information to the Lettenhove nobility and others in relation to the prisoner.”_

Curiosity got the better of them eventually, pulling them to their feet so they could walk over to the room at the very end of the corridor, they sent a glare to the heavy wooden door in their way, it reminding them of the one they argued with at Kaer Morhen. “If there’s another stone person…” Honey grumbled under their breath, trying to open the door gently at first. “Be kind to me.”

“ _Viscount de Lettenhove has since been transferred over to a prison located in the Temeria/Velen border. Despite the disclosure of this information, any attempt to find the prison or additional information than what is given in this letter will be consid_ _ered action against the Eternal Fire and the caught parties will be considered traitors and punished accordingly.”_

Gently wasn’t good enough as Honey eventually slammed their already sore body against the door before realising that the door might open outwards and began yanking at the handle, a foot placed on the wall. “Open you fuck- Gah!” A yelp filled the cave as the historian crashed against the floor, pain searing through their already aching back, a small whimper left them as they struggled to pick themselves up. “Shit…” They murmured as the pain began to radiate through their head, they had barely registered the fact that their head had bounced off of the stone floor.

“ _Viscount de Lettenhove’s punishment is as follows –_ _He has been sentenced to imprisonment for the duration of his life.”_

With a pained groan and a rub to their raw scalp, Honey stumbled slowly into the room.

“ _He is to be given at most a three month supply of food and water, a portion of the supply to be given once every few days, the choice to ration shall be his own or under the discretion of the warden if the prisoner commits any further acts that may need punishment._ _”_

Darkness swallowed the room making it impossible to see even a few inches despite the old torches that lined the corridor being lit. “Goddammit!” Honey huffed before hobbling over to the nearest torch, plucking it off of the wall and storming – to the best of their ability given their current state – back to the pitch-black room.

“ _Eventually, he will run out of food. The prisoner has the option to comply and give information to the Eternal Fire_ _or to forfeit his life by his or the Eternal Fire’s hand.”_

The flickering light wasn’t very strong, it barely made a circle around the historian but it didn’t stop them from scanning the room, checking the middle before making their way to the corners before the sheen of old silk caught their tired eyes. Honey moved the torch closer, illuminating the skeleton that was dressed in purples and blues, their face falling and now realising just how much they would have preferred another stone person, at least they would have been able to save them then. The brightly dressed skeleton was slumped against the wall, arms wrapped around something as if holding onto it with what life the person had left before they succumbed to their fate, the legs resting as if they were once curled into the person, further protecting their precious object.

“ _No matter what the prisoner chooses, he is never to leave his cell. His only entertainment shall be a possession of his choosing. If the prisoner dares to act out this possession will be removed and possibly destroyed if the wardens or guards deem it necessary.”_

Crouching down, Honey’s free hand gently brushed against the skeleton’s cheek, almost as if they were trying to brush away the long dried tears. Their eyes gazed down to the person’s arms or more specifically what they help. “A lute? So, you were a musician… You must be Dandelion, it’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mr Pankratz. Geralt’s told me so much about you.” They whispered out, hand falling to gently touch his shoulder. Geralt had told them tales of his friendship with the bard, they could tell how close they were and how fond of him Geralt was. Unknowingly, a tear rolled down their cheek as they sat opposite the bard, unsure what the next part of their plan was, the torch’s weak flame finally giving out and plunging them into darkness. "Fuck."

“The Temeria/Velen border prison is to act as Viscount de Lettenhove’s final resting place…” Regis’s voice drifted off as he concluded the letter, his eyes refusing to meet his friend’s as a pained sorry left him.

“I’m so sorry, Geralt…”


	10. Chapter 10

Moments ticked by in excruciating silence as Geralt read through the letter himself, again and again, leaving Regis and Julian to look for ways to distract themselves. Regis immediately returned to restoring books, a hobby that always kept in handy when he wanted his hands to be busy. Julian played on his phone silently, unsure of what to think and not wanting to think at the same time. First the name, then the portrait then finding out how Dandelion died, it was too much and felt far too familiar for him to be even remotely comfortable. Julian’s thoughts hadn’t stopped racing since he got back from the Chameleon and not even thinking about his Honey swayed those thoughts, no matter how much he wished it. What was he even meant to do with that kind of knowledge anyway? Geralt was already raging in silence over his friend’s fate, he didn’t need to hear about how the person that looks like him might be something more than just a coincidental lookalike.

What was worse for the musician's mental state was that now and then the silence would break with a growled out cuss that slipped from Geralt, usually at the Eternal Fire but he would fall back into silence as he read the letter once again, it made the musician uneasy as it became apparent that Geralt’s anger was more than just a ticking time bomb where all he could do was hope not to be on the receiving end of it, the man was made to kill things and it became apparent with each passing moment. **SLAM!** The loud noise of hands against a hardwood table made the vampire and musician jump, the latter letting out a small sound of surprise, nearly losing his phone as it slipped from his hands, their heads whipped over to look at the witcher, his chest heaving as he glared at the letter. Growls never ceasing.

Julian was surprised that it didn’t catch fire from the hatred in Geralt’s gaze.

“Damn the Eternal Fire!” The witcher’s voice was loud but couldn’t hide the cracks as he tried to hold in his tears, a sensation that was becoming far too common since he woke up in the future. Geralt bit back a growl, moving away from the desk, his back hitting the wall behind him ignoring the pain that came from the bookshelves pushing against him. Yellow eyes shifted over to the musician, echoes of his friend obvious but the differences became painfully obvious the more he looked. Julian was younger, still in his twenties, still holding the smug but inexperienced air that Dandelion held at the beginning of his travels with the witcher even though it was evident that he was extremely nervous. Memories of past travels flew by Geralt’s mind before it settled on the others he travelled with. Especially, Yen and Triss. Geralt straightened up as a thought came to him. “Gods, if they did that to him…” Then what did they do to the others, was what he couldn’t bring himself to say.

The Eternal Fire burned mages but if they went out of their way to torture Dandelion like that then he had no idea what they would do to the sorceresses, let alone Ciri, his darling child surprise. He needed to find her. Needed to know if she jumped to another time for safety.

Regis sighed inwardly, unsure of how to proceed with the situation. He knew what Geralt was getting at, the man’s concern was almost always centred on two people – Ciri and Yennefer. On the topic of the latter, the vampire hadn’t heard anything of the sorceresses in the years that went by, just like he hadn’t heard anything about what happened at Kaer Morhen or Dandelion’s imprisonment. The cult of Fire was proving to be more of a problem than he had first thought, and they weren’t even around any more. “The Eternal Fire kept everything quiet, no news of their actions floated around Nilfgaard during my time in the south, if I had known…” His eyes met the burning yellow ones of his friend, he knew the fire in them wasn’t aimed at him, Geralt didn’t blame him but he couldn’t help but feel guilty as if he should have tried harder. He’ll rectify that mistake. He had to, for Geralt and his conscience. “That doesn’t matter now. At least we’re aware of what happened to Dandelion, at the very least. He most likely allowed himself to be taken to avoid others getting hurt, you know him.” Old eyes looked towards the bard’s lookalike. Blue eyes fell onto Regis as a thought came to him. “Though it is rather fascinating that Julian looks exactly like him…” He pondered out loud, noticing Geralt perk up from the corner of his eye.

Cornflower eyes narrowed at the vampire slightly as the musician still struggled to calm his heart down from Geralt’s outburst. The man swallowed nothing before bringing himself to speak, not entirely trusting his voice not to waver. “It’s not that fascinating…” There it was again at the front of his mind, the comparisons. He only knew stories of the bard from Honey’s attempts to translate what Geralt said when they were travelling to the city and he couldn’t help but put himself in those situations. It was silly but the familiarity grew as he thought about it, it was bad enough that he was comparing himself to Dandelion, he didn’t need those that knew him to do the same.

“Ah, but it is,” Regis replied calmly. “Of course, it’s not uncommon that people can end up looking the same but for you two to have the same name, look and sound the same as well as having the equivalent job to his…” Regis trailed off, observing the musician from his position across the room. Anything could happen in a world of magic and monsters but he was trying to wrap his head around the only conclusion he could think of, it could simply be because he wasn’t aware of anyone else who went through the process but he couldn’t deny what was in front of him. “It’s almost as if you’re the reincarnation of Dandelion.” The vampire walked over to the vast wall of books, gazing at them while Julian and Geralt shared a look. “I’ll try and see what I can find of the subject but I can’t guarantee much considering the state of things here.” He gestured to the decaying books that filled the workshop. “Just keep it in mind that it’s a possibility.” Regis shot the others a small, polite as anything smile, before turning back to the collection. He doubted he would find anything, let alone before Honey got back from their journey to the border but if he couldn’t then he’d have to go looking elsewhere, even if he had to go south once more.

Geralt left the room shortly after, needing the fresh air and the cool chill it carried to try and calm his temper. He stepped out of the museum with a shaky sigh on his lips. “Shit…” Tears stung his eyes once more as thoughts began to settle, he didn’t want to think about the fact that his best friend was imprisoned, that his other friends could have shared the same fate or that the love of his life and his daughter were possibly tortured. The witcher thoughts flickered over to Honey, how they were currently looking for Dandelion’s prison, that they’d most likely find his body. He’d have to talk to them about that when they got back. A hand on his shoulder made him swing his head around, amber eyes meeting blue as Julian shot him a dejected smile as a form of comfort even if it naturally didn’t do very much. “Honey’s going to find him… Gonna have to bury him to prevent a wraith if Regis’ theory isn’t correct.” The ancient man muttered, scratching at his growing out stubble that he needed to get rid of. A wraith could mean death for his historian and he’d end up losing two dear friends to the same place, and he’d never forgive himself for that. “I hope they’re okay…” If they weren’t back by the spring, Geralt vowed to go back onto the Path and find them.

Speaking of Honey, they were currently lost in thought sitting opposite of Dandelion. They hadn’t moved since the torch extinguished even if their body complained about resting against the cold, jagged rocky floor. “What am I going to tell Geralt…?” Their voice croaked out, eyes flicking up to look at the bard almost as if they were expecting him to answer. Shakily they stood, their body still in agony from the punishment it went through just hours ago, eyes strained in the darkness but never left Dandelion. He had been left alone in the dark for so long, they weren’t going to let him fade away again. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you now…” Barely a whisper that left them as they gently scooped him up into their arms, making sure not to drop anything. “I’ve got you…” Honey slowly limped out of the room, being extra cautious so they didn’t knock him against anything.

The torches just outside his cell were hardly embers as they made their way through the corridor but at least there was any light at all to guide the historian through the prison. Damaged boots scuffed against the stone and booby-trapped floor, pain clawing at their legs and back, each step digging in more and more as they slowly pulled themselves towards the entrance, the need to get Dandelion out of his tomb spurring on more and more. Honey would worry about the repercussions of ignoring their aches and wounds later, he was more important. It was lucky that that noon had only just passed as the wounded historian and the bard they held close became bathed in light, the perk of arriving at sunrise. He wasn’t in the dark any more.

Dandelion rested against a tree while Honey scoured the area for a place to bury him, a task they made more difficult on themselves due to criteria they made on the go. Not too close to the prison, looked nice, got lots of light, not too close to the roads – the list went on like that.

When the daylight hours became wasted, Honey travelled back to him and set up camp, muttering apologies to Bumblebee for not relieving her of the equipment earlier. Every joint ached from exhaustion, each muscle burning from overuse, eyes and feet begging for rest and back calling for treatment. Briefly, they wondered how the others would tell them off for their carelessness as they sat down beside Dandelion and subconsciously taking his hand into their own. Bumblebee munched away on some food that was laid out for them, reminding Honey that they had been without food all day but the pain fought off any hunger that tried to announce itself, Honey wasn’t worried though as they’d eat in the morning before continuing the search. A silent vow to not leave until the task was done.

He deserved that, at least.

A yawn slipped through Honey as sunlight pulled at the strings of sleep that held onto them. “Morning already…?” They croaked out before fighting their aching body to stand. Dandelion was still in his place, luckily, it meant that no animals had chosen to try and move him, that he was safe. Honey pulled a cereal bar out from their bag, giving Bumblebee some more food and water before heading off in search of a better place for Dandelion to rest, munching on the cereal bar as they limped away.

The morning sun travelled slowly through the sky and before too long it was noon. Honey paced through the forest before the pain in their feet began to make them trip, their eyes widened as they found themselves falling forward, tumbling down a hill, rocks digging into different parts of their body adding to their plethora of aches and bruises. Rapid, heavy breaths heaved through their chest as they tried to collect themselves as they laid at the bottom of the steep hill, staring up at the bright sky. The colour reminded them of Julian and his wonderful pools of blue that pulled them in as he spoke, Honey wanted to hear his voice again, homesickness consuming them as a small sob bubbled its way up their throat. Tears trickled down their cheeks, they pulled their hands up to their face to cry into but carefully had to make sure to avoid the many cuts and scrapes the fall had littered over them. Honey knew it was silly to cry, silly to miss home when it was their choice to come out here but it just proved something to them.

They never wanted to travel alone again.

Eventually, Honey’s tears dried and they braved the pain as pulled themselves up, a groan leaving them as they did. Grass surrounded them. They had landed in a large meadow that was covered in a display of currently dead plants and a circle of trees worked as a border between the field and the rest of the forest aside from the hill that they had tripped down. They could only imagine just how beautiful it was in the spring, covered in flowers. “Found it…” A sad smile crossed their face as they rushed back to the campsite. It took about an hour for them to get Dandelion to the meadow and dig in just the right spot underneath a blossom tree that would work as his tombstone. They hoped it would be good enough as Honey laid him on a bed of leaves and spare cloth they had found while his lute a little bit away. They had originally planned on burying it with him but that plan changed when they noticed the ancient language carved into the back of the instrument, a letter written in his final moments, something for Geralt’s eyes.

Gingerly, they picked up the wrapped up lute, Dandelion’s grave now covered in fresh soil. “Goodbye, Mr Pankratz. Rest peacefully.” They call out to the wind before heading back to their horse that was already prepared to leave. Honey hadn’t expected to be emotionally exhausted but it just made them yearn to be wrapped in the arms of their boys, even if Geralt was unlikely to entertain such an action but, either way, they couldn’t wait to see him and Julian again.

So, they began the long journey back to Nova.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Ten! Finally here. Now I have to plan out the next ten chapters!  
> That's right, I planned out all ten chapters before I started.  
> Also, sorry for taking so long with this chapter, the heatwave London had killed all of my motivation to do anything really.  
> So, Dandelion had been found. Next is Triss then Lambert & Eskel, then Yennefer and then Ciri.  
> More angst is coming as well as romance, Honey just needs to get back home first.


	11. Chapter 11

Days crawled by what felt like an aeon as Honey and Bumblebee made their way back home, both more than eager for some long-awaited rest. Luckily, there were only a few days ride left before they got back to the city and seeing cars along the main road became a common sight more and more, a pleasant sight for Honey but not a pleasant sound for Bumblebee but the horse was a stubborn one and kept trekking even if the drivers didn’t want to give way to a humble traveller on horseback. It also seemed as if they didn’t care about stranded motorists either as Honey could hear someone call for help in the distance. Cautiously, Honey rode closer and saw a beautiful woman with auburn hair that looked rather defeated as she stood next to a silver car on the side of the road.

“Everything alright, miss?” They called out, keeping their voice friendly despite the nerves of talking to a stranger coming to the forefront. Talking to another human was feeling like a new experience all over again, yet another reason why they’d drag one or both of the boys along next time they were to leave Nova’s walls. Green eyes stared them down in surprise was Bumblebee slowly came to a stop in front of her, Honey sent her a smile before hoping down. “Do you need help?” Honey chirped, looking behind the woman at the seemingly fine car, nothing was outwardly wrong with it from what they could tell but they also weren’t a car person so a surface diagnosis from them didn’t mean much.

The woman sighed, her eyes following the historian’s trail and glared at her car. “Stupid thing broke down, my phone died an hour ago and no one is willing to use or let me borrow their phone or take me into the city to get the damn thing sorted.” She huffed. “Oh, I’m Triss, by the way. Dr Triss Merigold.” The name sounded familiar but Honey shrugged it off, tiredness not being a friend to their memory, so they just introduced themselves – mentioning their nickname as well because it seemed like everyone they met wanted to call them by it and they felt it was best to be proactive, it’s not like they minded the name anyway. “Honey, huh? Nice nickname. You’re not riding to Nova by any chance, are you?” Triss looked up at them hopefully, this kind stranger was nice enough to talk to her so maybe they’d help her out but she didn’t put too much stake into it with how rotten her luck had been for the past few weeks.

It was one thing after another for the poor doctor.

First, her mother passed away in the middle of the night, then her father went missing the next day. The police did nothing and assumed he had just left as a way of coping with the grief. Then there was the incident of her family fighting over the wake, the funeral, the will – Triss wasn’t sure if there was anything her family didn’t fight over. She was driving back to her clinic to finally get some rest after the will reading when her car broke down. Her phone had died shortly after that and then there were the inconsiderate and rude drivers that refused to help her or laughed at her misfortune. Triss was close to resigning to the fate of having to walk back to Nova on foot when Honey came along.

Speaking of which, Honey nodded, muttering out a nervous offer to take the doctor there on horseback. Triss beamed at the offer, grabbing what she desperately needed before locking up her car and – with some help from Honey – climbed onto the back of the chestnut horse. Honey climbed in front and guided Bumblebee into a canter. “So, Honey, do you live in Nova?” Triss asked after just a moment of silence, wanting to get to know her saviour a bit. It only seemed fair. Honey nodded and began to speak about their work at the local museum and how it was just them and the professor that looked after the place. “The history museum? I think I’ve walked by there before on the way to my clinic. I might have to drop by at some point.” She smiled, happy that things were starting to look up. There were still affairs to take care of back in the city but at least she had some peace to think things through. A few days, at that.

The pair kept conversation throughout the journey, neither prying too much but enjoying the other’s company. Topics flowed in and out of each other flawlessly, only crunching to a halt at the mention of love, mostly aimed at Honey by Triss. She was curious because from what she was able to hear, there was obviously someone they were interested in – or some people, she wouldn’t judge. The pair were a few hours outside of Nova before Honey’s lips spilled their feelings. “Well, It’s weird. I do have strong feelings for my friend Julian… I’d love to be in a relationship with him even if I run the risk of just being another in a long list of people but I also feel kinda fuzzy about my other friend. Both make me feel so happy but I don’t want to read too far into it in case I’m wrong about my feelings or how they might feel towards me.” Silence followed but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was reflective.

Eventually, they got to the Nova stables and Bumblebee was home. Honey and Triss hopped off, the stable owner approaching to help with Bumblebee’s saddle and the like even when Honey tried to let him know that it wasn’t necessary and that they had more than enough experience by now. The doctor watched from the fence, not wanting to interrupt as the historian fumbled about trying to get the elderly man to rest. Once Bumblebee was situated at her place in the stables, the travellers made their way through the city gates. “It’s nice to be home…” Triss sighed out, thanking Honey for their help and left for her clinic, hoping it was in one piece.

Honey waved goodbye before heading to their workplace. Granted it was probably a better idea for them to head home and rest but they had to get the lute to Geralt and they could only guess his location considering how long it had been since they last saw him. The museum hadn’t changed since they left, still quiet and void of life aside from those who worked there. “Emiel?” Honey called out, pacing over to the workroom, near enough cradling the lute as they entered. Regis was working on a map, the other two nowhere in sight when Honey approached. Gingerly, they placed down the lute and gave Regis a hug which he returned being as careful as he usually was around them. “Hey!” They chirped with a smile on their face despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, despite everything. Honey was just happy to be home. “Oh, I found Dandelion, well… his skeleton… I also found his lute. I was hoping you could translate it for me? I’m still shaky on the written word.” They blurt out, pushing that day to the back of their mind as they moved away from the vampire.

Tired eyes looked around some more before looking at Regis quizzically, an unspoken question in the air. “They’ve gone shopping. Julian was insistent that Geralt has eaten most of his pantry. They should be at the market if you want to catch up to them.” He explained, delicately picking up Dandelion’s lute to examine its condition, if he could restore it he would try. Honey thanks him quickly before rushing out, their worn backpack bouncing and slapping against their back as they practically sprinted to the marketplace.

THUD. Suddenly there was a warm wall blocking their path, knocking them back slightly as they recoiled from the impact. A squeak of an apology left their lips as they gazed up at the person they had thoughtlessly run into, cursing internally as they were so close to seeing their boys again. The man in front of them sneered, his arms crossed tightly as he looked down at them in more ways than one. He had a similar build to Geralt but dark slicked hair and dark eyes. The man even seemed to have a cocky attitude as he rudely barked out a: “Look where you’re going!” It was evident he didn’t like being touched. Besides the rude man was another person, this one far more relaxed, if not annoyed with the man next to him.

“Lamb, knock the rude attitude or I tell Keira.” The second man huffed out, cuffing the rude man on the back of the head lightly for emphasis more than to hurt him. It was easy to tell that this one was older, smile lines and other fine wrinkles giving away his age. Brown hair parted in the middle with calm but alert light brown eyes. Honey much preferred this man straight away. “Sorry about him, he forgets how to speak to civilians sometimes. You were rushing somewhere, everything okay?” Honey looked a bit confused at his word choice but answered that they were fine, just excited to meet up with some friends at the marketplace. A small smile cracked on his face before he explained himself. “I’m a detective, so’s the idiot next to me. We’re looking into a report of a suspicious person with white hair and yellow, cat eyes, who was weirdly enough seen at the marketplace. Friend of yours, by any chance?” Lamb rolled his eyes at the question and commented under his breath only to stop when the other detective glared at him.

Lamb gestured to Honey with his thumb, a perplexed look curling his face as he asked: “Do you really think this person knows anything, Es? They look like they haven’t bathed in weeks.” While true the comment still hurt Honey, they had run out of money to stay in inns or hotels but they had tried their best with what little they had. It was already embarrassing enough to have discussed it with Triss but to have a stranger so rudely point it out was something else. Es cuffed Lamb once again, this time harder so there was an audible slap, the older man apologising for his brother’s behaviour. Honey blinked, the behaviour of the pair now making a lot more sense with the added context.

A small whine left the historian, letting the pair know that they didn’t appreciate the comment before remarking. “Actually, that sounds like my friend Geralt. He’s… cosplaying a random book character about… a monster slayer! It’s obscure so I don’t blame people for not knowing. I just got back into town after travelling through the wilderness and we, along with another friend, were planning on heading back to mine after meeting up at the market.” Honey told them, jostling their backpack upwards slightly as if trying to prove a point. “We don’t mean to concern anyone.” They put their best faux guileless smile on before asking if they could go. Doe eyes in full effect.

Es relented, the small smile widening at Honey’s seemingly childlike innocence. “Of course, wouldn’t want to keep you from your friends. Just be careful, okay?” Honey gave a quick nod before almost skipping along, waving goodbye to the two detectives that seemed almost familiar.

From the distance, they could hear the pair begin to argue but soon they were drowned out by the bustling noise of the marketplace which caused a grin to creep across Honey’s face. Nothing seemed to change since they were gone and while other people might end up feeling unnerved by such a fact, hoping that they had a greater impact, Honey didn’t care as it meant they could just slip back into things and hopefully take their mind off of the darkness clawing at the back of their mind.

Slipping into the crowd, Honey made their way to the supermarket, that being the most logical place if the pair had gone to refill Julian’s pantry. Upon entering, it didn’t take long to confirm that they were there as Julian’s voice yapped away from a few feet away. “Of course…” Honey chuckled, pacing quickly over to the sweet aisle to see Geralt looking at Julian in annoyance. The musician rambled away about a new song he was working on and bugging the witcher for some help choosing some words, at least, that’s what Honey could work out, he was talking a bit too fast. Geralt’s eyes met Honey’s before the cat eyes rolled jokingly, a chuckle rumbling from him as he watched them walk over. “What’s going on?” Julian squeaked in surprise before enveloping them up in a tight hug, nearly lifting them off of the ground as he crushed them against his body. “Jules!” Honey whined out before breaking out into a giggle and squeezing the man with as much force as they could muster, turning it into a bear hug.

After a bit more fussing, and finishing up the shopping – Julian getting it delivered to his home to avoid anyone having to carry anything – the trio found themselves standing by the docks, chatting away. There was a brief bit of catch up, no one delving into deeper topics due to how recent the reunion was and the fact that they were outside. Inevitably, the conversation broke down into Julian blubbering about how much he had missed Honey, pulling them into yet another tight hug. The nearby witcher watched patiently, glad that Julian could finally spill out his emotions towards the object of his affections. It wasn’t too long before he too was yanked into the hug, Honey’s arm wrapping around his waist while Julian wrapped his arm around Geralt’s shoulders. “Don’t go without us next time!” Julian nearly sobbed as he buried his head into the crook of their neck, looking to Geralt to urge him to agree to which he did, voicing it with a grunt.

Sunset hit far too quickly for their liking, Honey looked between the two boys before mentioning that they lived nearby, catching the attention of the witcher and the musician who looked at them curiously. “Want to stay at mine tonight?” They asked softly, shocked at the almost immediate agreement from their friends. “O-Okay! Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me once again!  
> So, I know it's established that Honey is meant to be a fill-in for you but how do you see them? Are you reading it as a fill-in or do you have created an image of them in your mind? I'm curious.  
> Also, if you want to ask questions, please do. I don't mind doing a Q&A for the characters or myself.


	12. Chapter 12

Walking through the docks was the calm before the storm for anyone who knew Honey’s neighbours, most stayed quiet or kept the far end of the path as to not be dragged into the arguments. Honey wasn’t entirely sure how to warn their friends about what was to come so they just decided to let the pair see for themselves. Screams echoed from Honey’s neighbourhood, making them shrink into themselves as they approached, even from a distance they could tell that the argument was about the damn garden gnomes again. Julian watched in horror was Honey approached their house, he was unwilling to believe that a darling like them would live next to such hostility. Geralt, on the other hand, covered his ears and kept pace like he was Honey’s shadow, not wanting to cause a fight that was nearing the end from how tired the neighbours seemed.

Mrs Parsons continued her tirade even as our trio of protagonists made their way into Honey’s home, the historian’s presence not being a calming one this time. Honey apologised under their breath, looking and feeling ashamed – not only because their boys had seen the chaos they lived next to but also because they had dared to hope that there would be peace for once despite the elderly woman’s track record of daily yelling. No public disturbance notices could get that woman to stop so they had no idea why they thought life would be so kind to them. Foolishness is what they felt more than anything. The feeling of warm, calloused hands covering their ears pulled them from their self deprecating thoughts. Slowly, Honey and Geralt, who was busy blocking out the noise from them, made their way into the living room and plopped down onto the couch, the position slightly awkward with Geralt being both beside and behind Honey, nearly being their seat. The other member of the group didn’t seem to mind as Julian sat on Honey’s other side, leaning against them.

Honey felt multiple things at that moment from the basics of happy and relaxed but the most notable was what seemed to be the buds of belonging. Being with Julian and Geralt felt right.

The air was stagnant from being without occupants for a while, scattered papers still over the room and while most would have tried to clean up even with guests, Honey couldn’t bring themselves to move – quite literally as Geralt’s solid arms wrapped around tightly around their waist to prevent them from moving. A hiss of pain escaping them as the man holding them accidentally pressed against a deep bruise they had obtained a week prior, wild dogs were still a problem even after so many centuries. Yes, Honey was under constant attacks from wild dogs and wolves throughout their trip, though Bumblebee was usually able to outrun most of them, unfortunately, that didn’t always work. “Stop. I smell blood.” He growled out, not angrily but as a warning to not fight him. Blue met yellow before the caramel-haired musician clambered over and began to inspect his historian, fingers gently brushing against any exposed skin. Soft and nimble fingers traced outlines of bruises and healing cuts, muttering out each find to the witcher whose arms tightened slightly with each new entry to the long list of injuries. Honey tried to protest, convince them that they were fine and that most of it was already mostly healed but they continued.

It took longer than anyone was comfortable with for the list to reach its conclusion, and by then Honey had to strip most of their outer layers, they did have a break so they could shower but now they were left in rolled up bottoms and under-shirt as the boys began to patch up what they could. Julian nearly fainted at the number of healing wounds that littered Honey’s body while Geralt would scold them for not looking after themselves better but then would turn around and praise them for fending off so many beasts, making a comment about possibly getting them a sword which Julian shot down immediately. Warming balm was massaged in thoughtfully, almost pulling moans from Honey as the boys practically manhandled them to get the balm fully worked into their skin. A nervous giggle left them once it was all over, the initial awkward position on the couch had changed to something more awkward as Geralt held them to his chest as he laid down while Julian laid on top of both of them to make a weird human sandwich cuddle.

“This is nice,” Julian commented. He nuzzled against Honey’s chest gently, enjoying the fact he could hold them again. The phrase ‘Now or Never’ rang in his head as his cornflower blue eyes gazed lovingly up at his Honey, a heavy blush painting his cheeks as he worked up the courage and fought to calm his racing heart. “Hey, Honey?” He cooed out softly, he waited for Honey to make a sound to let him know that they were listening before he continued. Words began to fly out of his mouth. “I… I wanted to tell you that I think I’m in love with you and I want us to try and be in a relationship!” A squeak left him before he buried his head in their chest, heart hammering against his. It was far from elegant, far from romantic or passionate but it was laced with love and it was out in the air which was far better than just rattling around in his head. 

A warm chuckle made him raise his head, a grin was plastered on Honey’s face, their eyes welling with tears as they pulled him close as they could considering he was laying on them. “I want us to try too!” They chirped out, before looking back at Geralt as giddy as anything as if to confirm that Julian really did confess. The witcher chuckled himself, ignoring the odd ache that crossed his chest as he looked between the two on top of him, he was happy for them obviously but there was something almost bittersweet about it to him, not that he’d ever bring it up, he didn’t want to ruin the moment so he just congratulated the new couple who sealed the new relationship with a chaste kiss.

The position of the trio changed again, this time to something more normal with Geralt sitting on one end, Honey on the other with Julian sitting in front of them on the floor, head leaning against Honey’s legs. It was far more comfortable for all of them. Honey had turned on the TV in the corner of the room about an hour after Julian confessed but it was mostly background noise for them as they basked in the warmth of the requited feelings. Julian was being nosy and looking through some of the paperwork scattered on the floor while Geralt was trying his best to swallow the now heavy feeling in his stomach by slowly sipping on a glass of water and trying to focus only on the TV, it was still an odd concept to him but he understood why people would spend so much time watching it. There was a show about a magician trying to hide who he was playing,  not that Geralt was paying much attention to the plot.

Nervous squirming caught the witcher’s attention, cat eyes looking over to Honey surprised to see that they were no longer in a happy daze but instead were lost in thought and clearly upset about something. Without saying a word, he placed his hand on their shoulder to act as some form of comfort before tears began to spill down their cheeks. “I found Dandelion…” Their voice cracked as they turned to look Geralt in the eyes. “He… He was curled up in a pitch-black room at the back of a deep cave… I think died of dehydration or something. I got him out of there as soon as I had the strength.” A sob broke through but they kept going. “I found a lovely meadow that should be full of flowers when they bloom… His lute… I gave it to Regis, it has a letter carved into it for you…”  Honey’s shoulders shook as they broke down further, head now falling into their hands as they sobbed. The white-haired man quickly pulled them into a tight embrace, letting them cry into his shoulder as he rubbed their back gently, gesturing for Julian to hug them from behind which he leapt up to do. 

Geralt took in a deep breath, trying to work out exactly what to say to calm them down. Regular witchers weren’t meant to have emotions – cat school witchers being an exception because of their altered mutations –  so he wasn’t taught in his long life how to handle such situations, having to learn from the people that came into his life. He knew that holding them helped, it felt right to do it but a part of him wanted to back off and offer some alcohol, wanted him to run back to the distanced methods he was so used to. “We… found out what happened to him… why he was there.” He murmured out but still loud enough for them to hear. “He was taken because he knew me, imprisoned and tortured simply because he was friends to witchers and mages… All in the name of the Eternal fucking Fire.” Cat eyes glared at the wall behind Honey and Julian,  hiding his burning anger from the historian, wanting to protect them from the worse parts of himself. Whispered flurries of apologies left Honey, too quiet for a regular person to hear but Geralt did  and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want them sobbing into his chest. He wanted them to be happy and smiling like they were ten minutes ago, his heavy heart be damned. 

Silence held in the air, thick and oppressive as no one dared speak, the only sound being the occasional hiccup or sniff from Honey and the TV which was now playing some time travel show that Geralt hadn’t watched yet, but Honey said that they had a lot of it recorded so he could always ask if he could watch it at some point. 

Julian stifled out a small yawn, trying to hide it from the others but his body shook enough for the others to notice. Honey huffed and looked back at their new partner, thankful for the distraction even if they wouldn’t say it. “I think it’s a good time for us to get some rest. Eh, sleepyhead?” They aim the question at Julian, slipping out between their boys and pulling the musician up with them, the man walking into them slightly in his exhaustion. “Come on…” They cooed out, starting to guide him upstairs. “Come on, Geralt!” The witcher tried to protest, saying that he was planning on staying on the couch but he watched as Honey rolled their eyes and sent him an annoyed look as they continued to lead Julian. “My bed is big enough for three, come on. I know all too well that sleeping on that couch will lead to an aching back in the morning.”  Geralt snorted out a laugh before conceding and following the pair up into the bedroom. 

The bed was indeed rather massive for the tiny building, the trio would have no problem fitting but he still felt weird.  His friends had just formed a brand new couple and here he was climbing into bed with them, even if nothing exciting was going to happen he still felt as if he was intruding somehow. Julian fell back on to the bed with a flop, bouncing a few times and hair splaying out everywhere, dopey smile on his face as he let out a pleased sigh. The duvet that was on the bed had bounced with him, covering his legs so when he tried to move to pull his new partner and friend onto the bed, he fell over with a pathetic sounding thud.  Honey let out a squeak and rushed to help him up while a burst of laughter left Geralt, pulling the attention of the other two towards him, his laughter being deep and oddly contagious as the love birds began to join in. 

Eventually, they had gotten settled in with Honey in the middle and the boys on either side of them, Geralt claiming it was easier that way for a reason he didn’t explain but no one fought him on it, it worked so they didn’t care. The musician had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillows, the other two, on the other hand, couldn’t bring themselves to sleep. Dandelion was still at the front of their minds. Geralt retold tales of his dearly departed friend and Honey listened intently, taking in every detail, hung on every word he said even if he wasn’t the most creative of storytellers but there was something about his matter-of-fact blunt recollections  of some of his fondest memories that were charming. Soon, thanks to Geralt, the topic drifted to how Honey and Julian met, the mischief they got up to as they travelled up to Kaer Morhen, the witcher joking about the obvious flirting that Honey had been oblivious to. 

The historian let out a grunt of annoyance, gently swatting Geralt’s chest causing him to huff out a small laugh, a small smile on both of their faces. “Not funny. I honestly didn’t realise, I thought he was just being annoying with that song.” Honey tried to  defend their side, glancing briefly at the man they knew they were going to fall for as soon as they agreed to be his friend, a fond smile growing further on their lips.

“You didn’t work out that he was trying to make you jealous?”

“I couldn’t even imagine that a man as attractive as him would even be interested in me as a friend, let alone a romantic partner, so no. I didn’t think he was trying to make me jealous,” They admitted. Geralt shifted onto his side to look at them properly. “I mean, he informed me himself of his long list of ex-lovers so I thought he was just bragging to make himself seem cooler, you know, as people do.” Honey continued, running their hand through Julian’s hair as he cuddled into their chest, his legs tangled with his. “I don’t care about his past though, it doesn’t impact me.” Their tired eyes met Geralt’s, a glint in his eyes letting them know that he was happy to hear that, he had mentioned once or twice as he retold his stories of Dandelion that the bard and Julian were very similar so they just assumed that was happy to hear that someone would have been happy with Dandelion – the man who would fall in love with everyone. 

The Sandman soon began to make his presence known as Honey’s eyes began to drop. In the fog of fatigue, they wrapped their free arm around the witcher and pulled him close, his head resting in the crook of their neck. He didn’t say anything, instead, he curling into them more and enjoying the warmth that radiated through him, glad to have a small piece of his family back even if one was reincarnated and another was a brand new member. He didn’t care, he would protect them. 

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of rest before the chaos kicks back up.  
> Hey, Honey and Julian are finally together! Took them long enough.


	13. Chapter 13

THUD! It awoke Honey with a start, causing them to shoot up and look around to try and find what was out of place. Their chest heaved as they tried to calm their nerves and focus their senses that were still cloudy from sleep. Everything looked normal inside their bedroom aside from the white-haired man that laid beside them, his yellow eyes glaring towards the other side, not happy that he was woken up and the caramel-haired man on the floor now holding his head, whispering a slew of colourful curses that didn’t need repeating, no one heard what he said clearly anyway. They let out a breath they didn’t realise they were holding as the events of the previous day played in their head and it became clear to them what happened. Julian had fallen out of bed. Honey let out an amused sigh before shifting to the edge of the bed, peeking over the edge at their beloved who was now pouting up at them.

It took a little bit for Honey to calm down from a giggling fit that Julian had triggered. The sound was music to not only Julian’s ears but the man who was trying to stop Honey from falling off the bed from how hard they were laughing.

The rest of the morning wasn’t too much better, as the trio argued over who was going to have a shower first. Honey, being the gracious host they were, offered for one of the other two to take one but Julian wanted to take a shower with them – he was quickly shut up with a gentle swat to the back of the head by Geralt – and Geralt felt that since it was Honey’s home that they should go first. Stubbornness gripped Honey as they pushed Julian into the bathroom, sprinting downstairs into the kitchen shortly after to try and make at least some form of breakfast with what little they had. Geralt took the next turn so Honey had more time to make breakfast before it was the historian’s turn, said historian sulking from the tiny breakfast they had prepared.

Feeling a tinge of pity and the need to gift Honey something, anything, like the hopeless romantic he was, he quietly ordered not just groceries but for breakfast to be delivered. He had a good idea of what they ate or liked thanks to their small time travelling together. His chest filled with pride as he witnessed their excited surprise when the delivery driver arrived, he could only imagine what their face would be like when their groceries would show up in a few days – sure, it would take a while which he wasn’t too happy with but that was the closest delivery date he could find.

Honey excused themselves at some point, finally getting around to cleaning up their mess of a living room, the scattered paperwork slowly getting turned into neat piles that were eventually tucked into the small bookshelves and Honey’s leather work bag – a gift from Regis that he had given them when they started working with him – that they had used less than their backpack. Often, they would wear both when travelling to and from work but it had been abandoned for months now which made Honey upset so they decided that they’d take it with them the next time they left the house which wasn’t too much later.

A ruckus sounded out from the kitchen that pulled their attention away from their now cleaner living room. “What’s going on?” They called out as they paced their way into the small area to find it covered in a cloud of white powder. Shocked eyes traced over the chaos, landing on the sheepish witcher and musician who refused to meet their gaze all the while trying to look like they had done nothing wrong. Honey turned towards some of the fine white particles, dipping their finger in and touching it against their tongue. “Icing sugar? I didn’t think I still had some…” They muttered before turning their attention back to the sugar ghosts. “Why were you throwing icing sugar around?” Nothing. “Who started it?” Annoyance coated their face as the boys pointed at the other. Honey groaned under their breath before making their way over to the men that held special places in their heart, an innocent smile curled on their face as their doe eyes widened to a puppy-eyed look that would rival the musician. “Clean it up for me?” That got them moving.

After the kitchen was brought back to the clean shine it had before the sugar fight, the boys now needed a cleaning themselves. Unfortunately for their dignity, their showers took significantly less them than the washing machine so they had to wait in their underwear which normally wouldn’t be a problem but both would prefer the other wasn’t there – Julian was vocal about that, Geralt wasn’t. Perverted jokes fell from Honey’s mouth and there was no stopping them as they sat on his lap and soaked in his shocked reaction with his wide eyes and dropped jaw. Lustful thoughts riddled his mind and any attempt to hide it became impossible as Honey shifted further onto his lap, their crotch covering his as a lewd grin covered their face before they giggled mischievously and moved to sit between him and the witcher. “Not fair!” He whined, wanting his love back on his lap, any embarrassment of Geralt also being in the room long gone. Sure, he’d never push them into anything but witnessing this side of them was very appealing and he would love to see more.

Unfortunately, Honey decided to continue their tease as they skipped out to the kitchen to deal with the clothes, leaving the musician in the company of a witcher that tried his best to hold back both a laugh that caught in his throat and his own arousal. Soon the boys were back in their clothes, this time clean and warm from being fresh out of the dryer which was apparently still a new sensation to the thousand-year-old witcher that was more than pleased with the heated clothes. Honey slipped on their leather bag before gesturing towards the door.

The trio decided to head back to the museum as they still needed to know what was written on Dandelion’s lute. Julian had noticed that the other two were almost bouncing with nerves as they walked into the workshop, as an attempt to ease Honey’s he brushed his hand against their before taking a moment of bravery and gently enclosed their hand in his. A small smile curled on Honey’s face as they thanked him by intertwining their fingers with his. “You three are in early,” Regis called from his spot at his desk. Did he ever leave? Was a question on Julian’s mind but he shrugged it off as his eyes fell on the instrument that his lookalike once owned. Something beckoned at him to play it, he knew how but he refused, not wanting to be insensitive, Geralt was still a wild-card emotionally due to the fact he hadn’t had an outlet for his anger and grief. Perhaps the letter would help, Julian hoped.

Regis sent the group a sad smile before lifting the lute for Geralt to take. The tiny writing on the back becoming evident as soon as the light bounced off of it. The vampire noticed Julian subconsciously reach out for the instrument, a small action that only seemed to reaffirm his theory but he kept quiet as he waited for Geralt to act. Once it was out of his hands, he waited for a signal to share what was written, a brief nod from the witcher cued his translation for Julian’s sake.

“ _Gods this pains me to carve on my precious instrument but they won’t give me paper and this needs to be said. Good thing I can write in very tiny script_

“ _I will start by saying – Geralt, I’m sure you know by now that the Eternal Fire has imprisoned me for the crimes of being your friend. That I am very guilty for, and something I’ll never regret. So, don’t you dare go blaming yourself like I know you will._

“ _On to the topic in question, my time here has been awful. I’ve been trying my best to keep to my best behaviour so I don’t need to ration too much but in the last month at least, they’ve been finding any reason to keep the food from me. They’re not allowed to starve me for too long so they can gain information. I have worked out a small loophole in that, however, as I can tell them anything, even something they already know and that still counts as me complying with them so I can still get food and water. I’ve been making what I do get last as long as possible despite the pangs._

“ _I’ve been getting my payback, slowly but surely, by playing on my lute. Non-stop. Keeps them awake but I’m not breaking the rules. Anyway, for the sake of brevity. Something is happening. The others being held here have been complaining about the guards not showing up so I don’t know how much time I have left. I’m not too sure why you haven’t shown up yet, but I haven’t lost hope, I know you’ll save me, eventually._

“ _I can only hope that everyone is okay, that you are okay. I’ll see you soon. Your dear friend, Dandelion.”_

By the time Regis had finished reciting the letter, he had gazed up at the group to see them in various forms of emotional. Honey was holding themselves, eyes welling up with tears as they thought back to the prison and the curled up position that they had found Dandelion in, they could only imagine how scared he was when his supplies ran out, how he had maintained his hopes of rescue only for them to be crushed as time slowly ticked on and death claimed him. Meanwhile, Julian was torn between comforting his partner and sorting through his thoughts, Geralt, on the other hand, was trying to stop himself from punching a wall. Silence fell upon the group.

Eventually, the silence got to the witcher, Geralt storming out of the museum to try and gather what remained of his thoughts. Dandelion trusted him, waited on him and he failed to be there. Failed to protect him. Tears once again fell from his eyes as a laboured breath wracked through him, he was sick and tired of crying but the streams that flowed down his cheeks persisted. He fought back a sob as his head hit the cold brick of the museum’s exterior wall, the chill pulling him back from the abyss of his dark thoughts only slightly. Cat eyes snapped over towards the crying historian who gently touched his arm, turning him and guiding him into a soft hug, making him rest his head on their shoulder so he could cry. And he did.

Geralt felt warmth spread across behind him as Julian tried his best to hug the man from behind, the attempt being more awkward than anything due to the height and body-size difference between the two. A sob coated laugh left the witcher as he pulled both of his new friends into a tight hug, each arm wrapped tightly around their shoulders. The trio held each other for a while before pulling back to wipe away any tears that stained their skin. Each feeling guilty that a lot of their bonding moments were tied to such teary scenes. Geralt stroked Honey’s soft hair gently as they continued to rub away at their eyes, struggling to fight their tears from falling once again which made Geralt coo at them that everything was fine, they didn’t need to cry any more. He didn’t want them to cry any more.

Sniffles filled the air as Honey was finally able to calm their overactive tear-ducts. They felt stupid for crying like a child, they didn’t want their friends to think they were a crybaby but they couldn’t help it. Geralt was already someone they were very attached too and they couldn’t help but feel somewhat attached to Dandelion even if they never met him. Calloused hands continued to gently pat them on the head, bringing them small touches of peace which began to collect. A smile curled on their face as they began to try their best to reciprocate the comforting action, which proved to be more difficult than they had initially thought due to Geralt’s height. Small, hissed out mumbles of ‘bend down’ and ‘stupid tall man’ left them as they began to messily play with his hair to the best of his abilities.

As much as he didn’t want to interrupt his friends when they were being adorable as anything, proving his point that Geralt would be a great second partner, a thought crossed his mind. “What now…?” Julian asked, not entirely sure if he should be speaking at all. It felt wrong to butt in the situation. He wasn’t the one to lose a best friend, find out how he died and how he felt about his situation and he also wasn’t the one to suffer months of solitude just to discover a corpse. All he had to deal with is uncomfortable, almost deja-vu level, familiarity. He felt gross just from thinking that.

Honey gazed over to Geralt, scanning his face for anything that might suggest something different than what they had planned initially before answering their musician. “We continue. We still need to find what happened with the rest of Geralt’s friends. Who do we have left to find out about?” They asked, eyes once again falling on Geralt.

A thoughtful look crossed Geralt’s face, he wasn’t sure if he should mention his less human friends or if it was fair to do so, Honey was already so exhausted just finding Dandelion. “Triss Merigold, Yennefer of Vengerberg and Ciri,” He answered, deciding to keep to the original plan for now. A spark of recognition in both Honey and Julian’s eyes caught his attention, he asked why only for Julian to gesture to give him a moment as he searched for something on his phone. Geralt reeled his head back as the musician’s phone screen nearly hit him in Julian’s eagerness, yellow eyes narrowing on the glowing poster in front of him. “Merigold Clinic ran by Dr Triss Merigold. Business information… There’s a Triss in Nova?” Julian nodded excitedly, as much as he’d like another adventure after months of rest from the trip to Kaedwen he knew that something easy as heading to the local clinic would be better for Honey and Geralt’s sanity. “Shall we go then?” Geralt’s question was directed at Honey and they knew it so as a reply, they gazed at the address on Julian’s phone and began to march forward. “That’s a yes.”

Off to Merigold Clinic, our heroes went.


	14. Chapter 14

Due to the nature of a large city, it wasn’t difficult to find the clinic. Especially because of its location in Nova, the notorious Everglow district. Bright, flashy neons were on every building and it wasn’t contained to just the street, giving the area its name. Usually, people didn’t come here unless they had to or wanted something in particular, mostly due to a large amount of light pollution and headache-inducing surroundings. Thanks to Honey’s forethought and a pair of rarely used sunglasses, Geralt’s retinas remained intact. Of course, the clinic being famous meant that it was massive and massively busy, so busy in fact that only one of the group could convince the staff to let them in – Yes, Julian had to charm his way in, much to Honey’s relief because they couldn’t even work up the courage to go in so getting Triss out was their boyfriend’s job. Geralt and Honey were sitting at the cafe that sat on the opposite side of the street while the musician was suffering in the overfilled waiting room. It was a surprise that the pair had been able to get a seat because every place, even the streets of the Everglow district were a lot like the clinic, extremely busy. Most shops ran on a twenty-four-seven schedule.

If Honey’s memory recalled correctly from their research, the Everglow district used to be home to a church of the Eternal Fire, it was funny to them because the area that neighboured the Everglow – The red-light district. Most people assumed that the red-light district would be near the docks, and it could have been in the past but Honey always enjoyed the look on peoples faces when the assumed shopping district was right next to such a district and that the actual shopping district kept to it’s simpler marketplace roots.

To try and help the time go by, Honey began to list things off mentally. It was general trivia, such as the local currency was still called crowns and that the marketplace was the split between the richer and poorer citizens of the city. The divide of money wasn’t entirely obvious, it certainly wasn’t to tourists but Honey had lived in the grand city long enough to notice the signs that were waved from the background. The docks were considered to be the place for those who were on the poorer side but not completely poor, most places being rented out. Honey was lucky enough to own their home, even with how tiny it was. Pulling out of their thoughts, they gazed over to Geralt who was busy reading a story from a phone that Julian had bought him. It wasn’t often that he used it but it was nice knowing he was adjusting to the times, they supposed it made sense as witchers needed to adapt faster than the regular person. “Everything will be okay…” They muttered, taking his gently shaking had when they noticed it. He was nervous.

Almost half an hour went by before Julian approached, the auburn doctor travelling hot on his heels. Geralt sat straighter in his chair as they approached, regret hitting him like a tidal wave but he kept up his poker face, not wanting to scare another reincarnation of one of his friends – he had already messed up Julian’s first impression of him that way. “Ah, Honey!” Triss beamed, pulling Honey into a hug. “Mr Pankratz said you needed to speak to me? Is something wrong?” She pulled back, holding them at arms length, green eyes scanning the length of them to see if anything was wrong on the surface level. Honey shook their head quickly, gesturing towards the table to hint at her to sit down. There was a small problem of a lack of chairs so the loving couple made the conclusion of Julian sitting on the chair and Honey sitting on his lap as awkward as it was. “So, what’s going on?”

The trio shared a look before Geralt dared to speak. “Do you know anything about the old world? Witchers, sorceresses... Anything?” It hurt to ask, hurt to talk to this woman that used to be his lover in another time.

She took a moment to think before replying, “I mean, I do remember having some weird dreams with witchers in them when I was younger. Ended up with insomnia to avoid some of the worse ones. Been medicated since then so I don’t have them anymore. Why?” Upon seeing the opportunity, Honey quickly asked Triss if she knew anything about a Triss Merigold from the old world. “Oh, you mean the sorceress I was named after? Yeah, I know a little bit. Sometime during the takeover of the Eternal Fire she ended up creating a safe space for mages and non-humans somewhere in Redania, apparently it was safer due to the Empire’s takeover and the remainder of Temeria’s army making some weird agreement with them. It’s still in possession of my family, a gift from the original Merigold to her adopted children.” The doctor explained almost disinterested, pulling up images on her phone and showing the trio. Under her breath she made a few comments about how her weird relatives were in control of it which went unnoticed by Honey who looked towards Geralt who was looking off as if he was lost in thought, they hoped he was handling everything okay.

Was he even giving himself a break from all of the madness mentally? Probably not.

The comment didn’t go unnoticed by Julian however so with some poking from Julian, Triss opened up more about her ‘weird’ family. They were occultists. Specifically, they worshipped the sorceress Triss Merigold and had deluded themselves into thinking that the doctor was her, using the dreams as some form of proof of her past life. It started as early as her birth, it was the reason she was named after the sorceress. Her entire life was surrounded by Triss Merigold. She was forced to wear anything they deemed that Triss would wear, was not allowed to dye her hair, when she was forced to practice magic – even with it being a lost art so nothing happened – it was mostly fire magic. Her mood quickly dropped whenever someone mentioned the other Triss Merigold which was partially the reason she lived in Nova, far away from the family home and the building they owned. It was safe to say that Triss resented her namesake.

After some convincing, Triss agreed to show the trio where the building was and even offered to go with them to avoid complications with the building’s staff. Luckily, it was accessible by car so Bumblebee could get the rest she deserved. Buzzing to the brim with excitement over the chance to show off, Julian has his overly expensive car dropped off at the front of the city gates, he tried to explain to Geralt how it worked only for the witcher to shut him down by stating what he knew from the mountain of books Regis had him read. Honey patted the pouting musician on the back before climbing into the passenger seat, Triss and Geralt taking the back so Julian could take his place as the driver. Even if he didn’t get his chance to show off his knowledge to his friends, he at least got to show off his driving skills which some would say were immaculate compared to his riding skills but comparing something to nearly nothing isn’t fair.

Decrepit, that’s how the exterior of the building looked. Scaffolding littered random placed around the large, almost mansion-like structure, with sections slowly being rebuilt. Triss made a comment saying how the building was always being fixed. There was a dark feeling emanating from the building, causing Honey to sink into the passenger seat slightly, something was wrong with the image in front of them and they couldn’t work out what. Instinctively, they gazed towards the rear-view mirror, eyes landing on the one person they knew could protect the group – Geralt, who was busy clutching onto the medallion on his chest, unease in his eyes as they met Honey’s in the reflection. Something was going on, be on your guard was the unspoken order given by the witcher who fidgeted slightly due to his lack of armour. He felt exposed.

The excessively large double doors that sat in the middle of the main part of the mansion swung open just as the group climbed out of the car, revealing a tiny, greying woman with a smile that seemed to reach from ear to ear. She nearly sprinted to Triss’s side, a spew of welcomes following as she guided only the doctor towards the building, not caring for the other three that followed behind, even scowling at the witcher that kept in front of Honey and Julian. Cat eyes immediately noticed the weird sigils that were carved into the floors, he couldn’t recognise the symbols, it was nothing the sorceresses that were in his life used, these were new. Maybe they were created by the members of the school that now occupied the building. Students and staff kept close to the walls, whispering to each other about the guests, maybe even attempting to curse them under their breaths but it was nothing notable for the witcher. Yes, he could tell there was magic in the air but none of the students seemed magical in the slightest, nothing radiated from them other than the smell of fear and the sense of hatred.

A man on the larger side marched over, an insulted look on his face as he stared at the mutant. “Nessa, how dare you bring a creature like that in here?! This school is a sacred place!” Geralt’s eyes narrowed at the man but he bit his tongue, noticing the silent snarl creasing Honey’s face, his eyebrows scrunched at that, he couldn’t recall ever seeing them angry but it made him chuckle silently. They would have hated the old world if words as tame as that pissed them off. “Leave now, mutant!” The man, possibly the headmaster of the school, spat venomously, completely overlooking the annoyed daggers from Nessa and the angered ones from Triss. When words did nothing, he resorted to action, sweaty hands lading on Geralt’s chest who blinked at down him, clearly unamused, not moving an inch even when the headmaster tried to push him towards the doors. SLAM. It didn’t take much to get the man to stop touching the witcher, all Geralt had to do was step to the side and the headmaster went hurtling towards the well-polished stone flooring.

After a few more choice words from the plump man who looked like a necrophage’s dream meal as he wiggled around on the ground trying to get up, Triss finally snapped. “Enough! He is my guest! As the last member of the Merigold family, you will listen to me!” Her yells bounced off of the walls, scaring all of the students but were authoritative enough for the headmaster to back down. “Leave,” Triss demanded. Pointing off in a random direction, causing the man’s head to shrink down into his round shoulders, childish whimpers soon followed as the man scuttled away, embarrassed for more than one reason. It became evident to Geralt’s senses that the man wasn’t used to not getting his way, especially not with yelling. The witcher didn’t comment, it didn’t matter anyway.

Nessa left to search for the embarrassed man after leading the group to the sorceress’s office which was located in a part of the building that seemed to have had no repairs at all, even if those carved sigils followed. The group made sure the door was fully closed before looking around, not wanting any of the staff spying on them. Much to the annoyance of everyone, it seemed that the place had been cleaned out. “They must have moved her items into storage.” Honey and Geralt muttered simultaneously, Triss and Julian shared a look before Honey turned to Geralt and asked about why he was holding his medallion.

“It’s been humming like crazy non-stop since we got here, meaning that there’s magic nearby.” Triss suggested the members of the school, as Nessa had declared the school as a school of the occult but Geralt shook his head before continuing. “I doubt it. If they knew magic, they would have used a portal to throw me out, not rely on throwing a temper tantrum.” He made his way over to the crumbling stone desk at the back of the room, rough fingers grazing across the surface gently as he imagined his friend, once lover, sitting at it hard at work. “We need to find Triss’s stuff, she’d have most likely written things down about the location of Yen and Ciri, or at the very least explained the magic surrounding this place.” It didn’t take much for the others to agree.

There were two obvious places to look in a place so large, the attic or the basement. Julian, for one, had enough of basements, recalling the minor horrors of rats and mould underneath the Chameleon so he volunteered to look through the attic. The group split into teams of two which comprised of Julian working with Triss to check the attic, and Geralt and Honey checking the basement. The teams were picked, much to Julian’s dismay because he wanted to work with Honey, by a coin toss.

Honey could tell that Geralt was slightly out of it, his eyes drifting around the room as if he was watching someone walk through but they knew that wasn’t the case. They said nothing as the attic team left, closing the door firmly behind them but their eyes never leaving the witcher. He didn’t mean to be lost in his thoughts but he couldn’t help it because as far as he was aware, the room was the only thing he had of Triss, the last thing he had of any of the sorceresses. “Geralt?” The historian’s words came out softly as they cautiously brushed their hand against his arm, gently pulling his attention towards him. “Are you okay?” They felt like they didn’t ask that enough. A sigh left the man in front of them before he nodded and leaned forward, warm lips brushing softly against their forehead. Honey could feel their cheeks flare-up, only for them to burn hotter as calloused hands cupped them.

“I’ll be okay, just don’t leave my side,” Geralt murmured lowly. To Honey, it felt like he didn’t mean to say it out loud, like hearing him say such things were forbidden somehow. “I’ll keep you safe.” He promised them, pressing a kiss to the top of their head before moving away quickly as if his skin had been burnt. Amber eyes narrowing on the door. “Let’s go.” Any tenderness that his voice once held was now gone, replaced with a steeliness that while they weren’t used to, they secretly enjoyed. After sharing a look, confirming that his icy tone was aimed at them, Honey nodded in agreement and made their way to the door.

And so both teams went, off to find something, anything that belonged to the sorceress Triss Merigold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how is everyone enjoying quarantine?  
> I may or may not have an idea for another fanfic. One where the reader has their soul forcefully tied to Geralt's.  
> Oh, I use PlaguedParadox as my username for everything so if you want to talk to me on Twitter/Instagram/Tumblr or whatever, you can  
> I also take requests!  
> Discord server - https://discord.gg/R7VBnzT


	15. Chapter 15

Silence fell upon the attic team mere moments after leaving Triss’s office. Something was off about the whole building and now that Geralt had dared to air it out, the others were feeling it. The oppressive aura that hung off of them like a lead blanket made the long trek to the top of the enormous building that much longer, making it compare to something closer to a mountain climb rather than simply going through a mansion. The weight of it becoming close to suffocating because, after all, if a witcher was being cautious then it surely meant trouble. Julian gulped as he gazed around, his eyes naturally drifting to look over his shoulder, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were being watched at that moment and could have sworn he saw movement in the distance as they travelled further and further away from the safety of the office if it was even safe.

“Here we are,” Triss murmured as she stared down at the end of the hallway. Her hand grazing over the aged handle of the hardly used door, green eyes flicking back towards the musician standing behind her and then behind him, not entirely trusting the situation. The pair held their breath as Triss pulled the handle down and pushed at the door, causing it to jump from its latch and begin to open. Loud creaking echoing through the air as the door shifted on its hinges.

Now, if this was a different kind of story I could  say that it was ominous plumes of smoke  which slipped out of the door, covering the area in a cloud of thick smog that chilled the two adventurers but no,  the unease that crept through their bones as the door swung open rigidly  came from something different – the fact that nothing happened. Just the looming darkness of the room ahead of them.  The stagnant, fusty smell of age filled the area, making the pair scrunch their nose in disgust. Julian was already regretting volunteering for the attic, suddenly preferring the pungent smell of the Chameleon’s forgotten basement.  Triss was quick to pull out her phone, turning on the flashlight so they could at least see  the rotting stairs that lead even higher up and away from the safety of people. With little chance for the pair to gain their wits about themselves, Triss took the first step forward,  wishing more than anything that the magic that she was forced to learn as a child actually worked.

Elsewhere in the massive building, our other group  of heroes  investigated. Geralt took the lead, scaring away those who spied on the pair, and Honey would quickly scan through the various containers they came across.  It felt like Geralt was stalling for time more and more with each new room they looked through. When they would go through the corridor, Geralt held their hand, keeping them as close as possible, the witcher being worried that one of the students would try to grab and pull Honey off to a random corner and go gods knows what. He made a promise to keep them safe and he was going to do it. Not that he told Honey that, they were preoccupied with convincing Geralt to stop wasting time.  They had tried to argue with  him , saying that not everything needed to be checked but Geralt would just throw them a look and say: “It’s just in case.” To which Honey would sigh, resigning themselves to the fact that their end of the investigation would take a while and mentally wished the other pair luck.

Speaking of which, let’s  switch back to Triss and Julian. 

T he attic floor creaked with every step, the rotten wood still holding together thanks to the rigid struts that held the wood in place aside from a few places that now held decently sized holes from where a musician’s leg had broken through. Julian leaned against one of the support beams as his blue eyes scanned his left leg, biting into his cheek lightly to avoid hissing from the sting that radiated out from the scratches that now littered both his legs.  Reddened lines were thankfully just that, no blood in sight which allowed a sigh of relief to flood out of Julian, his eyes flicking up to look at the doctor who had found an old trunk and was now delicately pulling fraying fabrics and ancient books and laying the items out beside her, all the while her teeth worried her bottom lip.

“This is an interesting situation we’ve found ourselves in, huh?” He blurted out without much thought, drawing over Triss’s attention, one of her eyebrows raised in question. “What I mean is… We’re in a very similar situation. We both look like someone Geralt used to know. Both believed to be reincarnations of these… important figures in the witcher’s life. It’s easy enough to laugh off as coincidence.” Julian began to pace carefully, keeping in mind the gaps he had put in the floor. Unease began to grow in the pair as Julian’s words settled like the dust around them. “Something feels… off about all of this. It’s so…” Lost for words, the talkative musician became silent. 

Triss gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers curling into her palms, trying to use the pinch of her nails digging in to ground herself. “Familiar?” She understood all too well what he was trying to get at. It was part of the reason why she was so willing to help, it felt as if Geralt and Julian were old friends but couldn’t work out why. From the corner of her eye, she could see Julian nod slightly. Strangely, it felt wrong for him to be so quiet like she knew just how much of a loudmouth he could be. With a hard swallow, she spoke out. “So, there’s a chance that we’re actually Geralt’s friends. That doesn’t change anything. We have lives outside of him.” Walls slowly slid up, the auburn-haired woman did not want to focus on the possibility her crazed family and their cult were right any longer, even if it would explain an awful lot. “So… you and Honey seem pretty close.” So she changed the topic to one she knew Julian couldn’t help but indulge in – his love.

Cornflower eyes lit up as the musician’s pacing stilled, a beaming grin crossed his face. “Close doesn’t even cut it! They’re everything to me. We’ve recently gotten together!” Julian swung from side to side gently, almost dancing out his emotions. “I’ve been entranced for a while, and to think that they’ve jumped headfirst into helping a stranger, it’s enough to make any artist swoon. They’re the perfect muse! I’ve started writing about them. I’ll reprise some!” He plopped down next to the trunk, practically throwing himself into a pose as he began to recite romance-filled, sugary poetry about his dear Honey. Not that Triss was paying attention, thoughts drifting off to the previous subject much to her dismay.  Several minutes passed by before Triss forced her focus back on the man.  “’ And so, you make my heart beat like a buzzing bee, my sweet Honey.’ So, what do you think?” His grin seemed to grow before his mind switched to the next thought. “Oh, I have another one. ‘It was but a simple day-” THUD. The poet died down at the sound, ears straining to hear anything else while confused blue met with equally confused green. “What was that?” He mouthed as he gently moved away, trying to avoid making any sound as he gazed around.

It was mere seconds before black filled both of their visions. 

After checking through nearly every room, cabinet and even food barrel on the way down to the basement, Honey was moments away from yelling at the witcher.  The man was thorough, they couldn’t deny that they just didn’t believe they needed to check every little thing and they swore they saw him pocket some of the items they had found even if he denied it, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The historian’s sanity was about to snap from how long it was taking to get Geralt to head to their target.  “Please, Geralt. I’m literally begging you right now, let’s head down to the basement. We’ve already established that there’s nothing of importance up here.” Their voice whined, their arms curling around one of his and tugging him towards the trap door which led to their  destination below. Even with their harshest of pulls, he bared budged an inch, an amused smirk curling at the edges of his lips at their attempt. Geralt could appreciate how stubborn they were, so, for their sake, he yielded and lead them to the basement.

Despite the aged hinges being rusted shut, the trap door swung without much off a fuss  after Geralt broke the latch and yanked at the handle. “No ladder… Hold on.” Was all the warning he gave them before he scooped them up and dropped down into the darkness below.

Honey held onto a wall, catching their breath as they glared at the witcher, having just scolded the man for not just jumping with close to no warning but also because he could have gotten hurt. He couldn’t land properly holding onto them. After taking a moment to gather themselves, they pushed away from the wall and walked further into the room, Geralt following closely behind like their shadow once again. The basement was simple, one large room made of stone aside from wooden beams in the corners and the trap door. There were come candlesticks mounted into the walls, several aged barrels and cabinets laid around but aside from that, it was sparse. Sighing in defeat, both at the lack of a significant find and the fact that there were yet more containers to check, Honey moved further into the room.

“I really hope there aren’t catacombs or something under here.” They muttered worriedly, their feet kicking at the stone floor beneath them before they turned to look at Geralt, almost expecting him to confirm their worries but those worries shifted as they watched amber cat eyes scan the room. Geralt’s eyebrows furrowing in thought as his stance seemed to get more defensive as if waiting for something – anything – to happen. And the thought unnerved them.“What’s wrong?”

“It’s empty.”

Honey’s nose crinkled in thought, trying to work out what was wrong with such a thing. “They could just prefer to store things in the attic. No need to keep things in here. Doesn't help it feels like a freezer in here…” They shivered, hugging their own arms to gain some warmth but their eyes never leaving their friend. “Think there’s a hidden door or something?” Receiving a grunt in response, they began to check around.

“I doubt a building this big, especially with it being from my time, would have a basement this small, so there has to be something here.” Geralt tapped his boot on the ground, taking a moment to process before moving further into the room himself. “Sounds like there’s a floor below us, so keep an eye out for any hidden triggers. The room could be booby-trapped.” The mention of traps caused Honey’s eyes to immediately look at the floor, not wanting to be nearly impaled on spikes again. Their poor feet were still recovering.

Geralt followed his historian’s movements, taking note of how cautious they were being. They had mentioned the traps they witnessed while down in Dandelion’s prison, it was obvious that the experience left more than just physical scars. He needed their confidence to grow, insecurities could cost them. Sure, it was a dull process but it was the most delicate method he could think of and it’s not like he could prepare them with sparring. It’s why he wanted to take his time, slowly working room to room, get them to mentally prepare themselves for something to happen. That and it was a good excuse to pick up some needed equipment. He didn’t have a sword so he had to make do with signs if they were attacked. But he also needed something to keep his health up so he could protect Honey, he would be no good as a shield if he was hurt.

While he had some time, he quickly pulled out some of the ingredients he had stolen from some of the rooms above and began working on making some Swallow. Any spare materials he used to make any salves and balms he could think of that he could use if Honey got hurt, Swallow would kill them after all.

His thoughts drifted off to his old friends,  so much time had passed between his imprisonment and Honey freeing him, he could only hope that the ones that the Eternal Fire didn’t get their hands on had a long life. Shamefully, in his opinion, he hoped that Julian and Triss were in fact reincarnations so he could have the chance to make up for his perceived failures.  The idea of reincarnation gave him hope, hope that he could see his brothers again.  Lambert would be annoyed to know Triss was back. Geralt nearly chuckled at the thought. If he was pushing that luck, maybe even see Vesemir once again but there was a good chance that Vesemir’s reincarnation had already passed from old age.

“I’ll need to get you a bag if you keep stealing herbs.” Honey joked, pulling the man out of his thoughts. Their eyes were warm with something he could only describe as admiration, not that he could work out why they’d admire him. “Here, you’ll need this if you want to carry those bottles around.” They explained before chucking their leather bag over, Geralt catching it in one hand with ease. He gave them a nod in thanks, a smile teasing on his face as he collected what he had done and placing the bag over his shoulder, adjusting the strap so it would fit over his chest. His fingers trailed over the worn, rough edges that showed the bag’s heavy use. Honey talked little about themselves, their behaviour at times reminding him of a witcher, but he didn’t want to entertain the thought, he didn’t even like remembering the trials.

The lightly calloused, scuffed up hands gently brushed against the wall, as the historian used it to keep themselves standing straight when they caught against one of the candles, the mount shifting unexpectedly at the gentle knock. “Hey, Geralt? This candle mount moved.” Soon their back flooded with warmth as the large man came to stand behind them, his far more scarred hand coming up to reach the metal mount and pulling it down. A click sounding off in the distance as a small section of the wall nearby pulled back and receded down into a gap in the corridor that was now revealed to the pair. “Oh joy…” They muttered, backing up into Geralt’s chest, their eyes starring down the path which became lit as similar candlesticks suddenly grew flames. The wolf medallion humming heavily, vibrating against Honey’s back as the pair stared down the path they’ll inevitably have to take.

Magic was in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back.  
> Sorry for the long wait and short chapter.  
> I've been trying to get motivation back and hopefully, it won't take so long to update this fic in the future.


End file.
